


Miraculous Cardcaptor

by aideyn



Category: Cardcaptor Sakura, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, Akuma Possession, CCS AU, Costumes, Different take on Akuma, Eventual reveal, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Kwami Swap, Magic, Magical Artifacts, Magical Girl Marinette, Prior Knowledge of CCS not required!, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, love square
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-09-15 05:50:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9221858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aideyn/pseuds/aideyn
Summary: -AU- Marinette is just normal girl living a normal life, but when she discovers a strange book and unleashes a powerful magic upon an unsuspecting Paris-- it is up to her to protect her city and collect the Miraculous Cards!





	1. Marinette and the Strange Book

**Author's Note:**

> This is a tweaked-CCS AU, not a crossover! A what-if fic about Marinette finding the 'Clow' Cards, if you will! Please enjoy! :D

In a haze between lucidity and sleep, she wasn’t sure if she was floating or sinking. She felt weightless and weighed down all at once. And despite the fact that she couldn’t see, or feel anything that suggested that she was still inside her body, there was something tugging at her, drawing her in closer.  
  
A soft bell chimed and the sound of dripping water overwhelmed her as she tried to see what was calling out to her. She tried so hard that her eyes hurt, but it wasn’t until she gave in to the pulling that something surfaced.  
  
When she stopped resisting, a book faded into existence. Despite the lack of light, it was clear and detailed in front of her. She had only enough time to make out the broadest of details, about the book (red leather, silver embossments and a latch, black and silver designs of two unrecognizable creatures on the cover) before the latch opened with another chime of the soft bell and pulled her into a hollow hole at its center.  
  
Gone was the featureless depths of the unconscious where she had seen the book. Now she was on her bedroom balcony. A large moon was striking and beautiful against the skyline of Paris. It overshadowed the Eiffel Tower, casting a long shadow over the buildings in front of her. There was someone waiting for her there. It was unsettling, and the unease of it clutched at her heart.  
  
She was granted a moment of reprieve from the cold feeling as she was removed from her body. Given a moment in the eyes of an unseen observer, she saw herself as others must see her. It was an alien way of seeing one’s own self, a way that couldn’t be replicated with mirrors or photographs. Though… she was dressed oddly. A red and black costume with silver accents. She vaguely recalled it from the depths of her own sketchbook, but she would have sworn she hadn’t designed a mask for it… or had she?  
  
Cards fell through the air around her, gracefully twirling like falling petals and a small creature… strikingly similar to one of the pair from the cover of the book was floating beside her. Her mouth moved, but she couldn’t make out her words, nor the creature’s response to them.  
  
She returned to her body just in time to feel herself leaping gently from her roof, and though she wanted to look at the ground, her eyes remained transfixed on the Eiffel Tower in front of her. Her body started to plummet and she felt her stomach falling out as gravity started to pull at her.  
  
Marinette Dupain-Cheng lurched up and out of her bed as though she had been catapulted, finding herself precariously holding onto the railing of the steps up to her lofted mattress. Her heart beat rapidly as she tried to reconcile her dream with her current reality. She was in her room, her alarm was ringing, and suddenly her ears picked up the middle of her mother’s sentence.  
  
‘-been going off for fifteen minutes now! You’re going to be late for your first day of the new school year!”  
  
“It’s okay Maman– I’m coming!”  


Already, if uncharacteristically, out of bed, Marinette performed her morning ablutions, dressed and put up her hair. After finally putting down her hairbrush, the pigtailed teen slowly turned to scan her room. Despite the normalcy of it all, her sense of unease lingered. Her heartbeat wasn’t a million meters a minute, but it hadn’t resumed its normal rhythm either.  
  
Her eyes drifted to the trapdoor above her bed, trying to replay the scene she had witnessed from her dream. It was like trying to hold water in her cupped hands. The more urgently she tried, the faster the details slipped away. Why had it been so unsettling? It hadn’t been menace that had emanated from the Eiffel Tower… it was closer to judgement. Marinette tried to shrug off the feeling that she had been weighed and found wanting as she opened the hatch that led to the rest of the house and climbed down.  
  
The cereal, milk and her favorite chocolate powder had already been laid out on the counter. She sat in front of it, brow furrowed and more than a little distracted. It took her a few moments of picking at it before she realized her mother was eyeing her. Marinette gave her mother the best tired smile she could muster before giving her breakfast a much better going over. Trying to shake off the melancholy of the dream she cleared her throat before offering a plausible excuse for her mood.  
  
“Just thinking, you… can bet that Chloe’s going to be in my class again.”  
  
Her mother frowned, but it was softened now, her tone was consoling. “Four years in a row? That seems unlikely.” But Marinette’s comment had achieved its desired result, her mother stopped frowning and staring at her with worried eyes and resumed washing some dishes in the sink.  
  
“It’s incredibly likely, with my bad luck.” Marinette had just finished sprinkling some chocolate powder on the cereal when immediately, as if to underscore her sentiment, the milk toppled over when she set down the powder box too hard. She hadn’t closed the milk tightly enough, as proven by the rush of milk pouring onto the countertop and down the cabinets.  
  
She reached out to grab it, wincing when it became apparent she was too late. Her mother swooped in with a towel, deftly cleaning up the spill. When they had both straightened the items on the counter, she cupped her daughter’s cheek with the hand that wasn’t filled with a sopping rag.  
  
“It’s a new year, a new beginning. And there’s always time to turn your luck around.”  
  
Those words of encouragement saw her running downstairs to the bakery proper, grabbing a box of fresh and delicious mint green macaroons from her father. They were a bit harder to keep in mind when she tripped and spilled a few of them while helping an elderly man cross the street to avoid getting hit by a car. They were all but forgotten by the time she burst into the classroom and fell flat on her face to avoid a head on collision with none other than Chloe Bourgeois.  
  
So much for turning her luck around. To add insult to literal injury, she’d lost more macaroons to her fall. Collecting them with one hand, she tossed the dirty ones into the trash can. Just one remained in the now oversized box.  
  
She tried to ignore the impolite things Chloe was saying about her as she made a beeline towards a seat in the front row that had no neighbor. But Chloe pushed past her and sat down, a haughty smirk on her face as if daring Marinette to comment.  
  
Rolling her eyes, Marinette scanned the room for her other options. There were three empty spots left, one next to Nino in the front row, but that would put her directly across from Chloe. One was next to Ivan in the back row, and the last was next to a girl she’d never seen before in the second row. The mysterious new girl didn’t make eye contact with Marinette however, she was too busy glaring at Chloe.  
  
“You aren’t even going to apologize? You were standing in front of the closed door.”  
  
Marinette’s eyes widened and she could feel the mood of the entire classroom tense as all eyes swiveled to the blonde Mayor’s daughter.  
  
Chloe tittered, making a ‘shoo-fly’ gesture with the tips of her fingers at their new classmate. “Oh look Sabrina, we have a vigilante in the class this year. I was almost trampled by a tardy student, I fail to see how that is my fault at all.” With that Chloe went back to toying with her phone.  
  
Marinette slid into the seat next to the fiery red-head. “Wow-- just wow. We’ve--” Marinette gestured to motion to the majority of their classmates. “We’ve been in classes with her for years, that’s gotta be the first time someone’s said something.”  
  
The spectacled red-head smiled, “All that is required for evil to prevail is for good people to do nothing.” Her brown eyes cut to Chloe past Marinette’s shoulder. “And that girl is eeevil.”  
  
Marinette giggled behind her hand. “And you haven’t even been stuck with her for three years yet. I wish I could stick up to her like that.”  
  
“Then do it.”  
  
Marinette laughed softly again. “Yeaaaaah, right.”  
  
The girl stuck her tongue out at her. “You just need to be more confident! Three years? Well, this year’s different--uh..”  
  
“Marinette!” Opening the box, she removed the lone remaining macaroon, breaking it in half and offering part to the girl.  
  
“Alya!” They bit into the macaroons, enjoying them and settling back in their seats. There was no time for more conversation or to ask any questions about the new girl.  
  
Tardy hadn’t been exactly correct, but Marinette had cut it quite close to the bell. Their teacher was already writing her name on the board. She was a tall red-haired woman with bright blue eyes. ‘Mme Bustier’ was written in an elegant script on the chalkboard.  
  
The moment the bell rang she cleared her throat and introduced herself. Almost entirely for the benefit of Alya. Everyone else would have taken classes with her or at least seen her around campus for the last three years. The fact that this would be her final year at Collège Françoise Dupont was exciting, if a bit daunting. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to start a new school during your final year. She snuck a glance at Alya as the teacher began talking about what they would learn during the year.  
  
Marinette opened her sketchbook, a jolt of shock coursing through her as she realized she had opened it on the same outfit that she had been wearing in her dream. The cape was outlined in her red copic with large black dots on it. The bodysuit underneath was black with red piping forming parallel lines down her torso until they were covered by the poofy and rounded black shorts. It was very… insect like. She’d been designing costumes-- not fashion-- for the past few months of break. The socks were thigh-high and black with red dots, and the shoes were red with black accents and silver buckles.  
  
Even the hood was the same-- heavy and voluminous. Aside from the lack of a mask, it had been perfectly recreated in her dream. Feeling a bit divorced from her own actions, Marinette sketched out the mask over the figure’s face, with a larger version beside the outfit to make sure the details were clear.    
  
“That looks lovely-- like a superhero!”  
  
Ayla’s whispered comment almost made Marinette yelp with surprise, but luckily she smothered the noise.    
  
“Thank you--” Her voice was even quieter than the red-head’s. “I usually design normal clothes, but I’ve been branching out into costuming.”  
  
That was all she got out before the teacher turned back around, her blue eyes sharp on them. Alya flashed her a thumbs up underneath the table and a cheeky grin before she turned her attention back to the lecture.  
  
Marinette traced the lines of the mask with hesitant fingers. What did this mean? It left a uneasy feeling that weighed heavily on her shoulders. Closing the sketchbook, she too turned her attention back to Madame Bustier.  
  
It was a problem for another time.

 

\--

  


Other than a small outburst where Ivan was sent to the principal’s office for threatening Kim in front of the teacher, their last first-day of college went pretty smoothly.

She and Alya had bonded in the library during their study period. The red-haired girl had moved into the school district because her mother started working at La Grand Paris. Marinette had been surprised to realize that Alya had known that Chloe was her mother’s boss’s daughter before this morning’s little scene.

The redhead shook off Marinette’s concern. “My mother is very good at her job, one of the best in the industry. If that insufferable girl has any sense, she won’t bark out orders that her father can’t agree to because it’d be bad for his business. Besides-- he exchanged offers with her and outbid three other hotels for her employment package.”

It was hard not to be in awe of the girl.  She’d have been petrified of Chloe ruining her parent’s jobs. Marinette swallowed all the half formed wishes she could be as confident as Alya as they returned to the rest of their classes for the day.

She invited her to the bakery for more treats, more than a little pleased at the girl’s praise of her parent’s food. With her mother being the head chef of a 5-Star Parisian hotel, she was bound to have sampled some of the most amazing food in the country.

She, Alya and her parents chatted for a bit in the bakery before her new friend said her farewells, heading for home.

“I’ll lend you those Majestia comics sometime, you’ll love her! 

“Of course!” Marinette waved and smiled as Alya disappeared down the street.

The girl had talked endlessly about her fan blog for her favorite comic book superheroine, Majestia at school in the library. It was hard not to get a little excited about something that she was so genuinely passionate about even if she’d never really read any comic books before. 

Her mother was in the kitchen preparing dinner when Marinette slipped in shortly afterwards. “We still have an hour or so before dinner will be ready. Do you have any homework?” When she shook her head, her mother smiled. “Well then, I’ll call you down when it’s ready.”

“Actually Maman, I was wondering if I could slip out to the fabric shop.” After getting her mother’s blessing, she cheerfully grabbed her purse and started for her favorite fabric shop down the street. 

Left with her own thoughts and no distractions, her mind drifted back to the dream she had woken up so suddenly from that morning. The heavy feeling on her shoulders returned. The sense that she continued to lack. It was even more impossible to ignore the dream when she stopped in front of the black and red fabric sections in her favorite store.

Humoring her subconscious, she felt each of the fabrics between the tip of her fingers. She had meant to get more neutral colored fabrics for other projects. But before she could stop herself, she had pulled out her design book and was cutting off the appropriate amount of fabric for the costume she’d been wearing in her dream.

She’d already cut it by the time she had brought herself to her senses. What was the purpose of making that costume?-- But the damage was done. She looked at the lengths of fabric in her hands before sighing and cutting off a bit more black. There was a ballerina design she had intended to do in blues and purples. But she couldn’t just waste all this perfectly fine red and black fabric.

Against her better judgement, she also picked up the makings for a mask. It had been part of the dancing costume she was going to do in blue and purple after all, it wasn’t like she was gravitating towards it because of her unsettling dream.

Not at all.

Fabric selections paid for, she made her way out of the shop. All in all, her lapse in good judgement had taken a half hour, with the walk back, she’d have just enough time to make it home and put away her things before it was time for dinner.

Despite this, her steps slowed to a complete halt just a few shops down from the fabric store. Confused, she looked around and spotted an antique shop. With a curious frown, she stepped inside, looking around. She liked to look around antique shops for accessories, and especially things like buttons, or fabrics that could be salvaged from old clothing. No matter her internal assertions that she’d hurry to the jewelry section and right back out after she’d browsed, Marinette found herself slowly walking around the outer shelves of the whole store.

It was eerily empty-- in the way that so many antique shops were both occupied and empty at the same time. There were so many things crowding on her from the shelves that she had to keep her fabric bags tucked against her tightly to keep them from knocking anything over. And the shelves were large and bulky, but despite the fact that she had walked through the entire store, she didn’t see the shopkeeper or another customer at all.

A loud and indescribable noise filled the tiny shop and Marinette froze in her tracks. The noise sounded again, and her eyes darted around looking for the source of the noise. Was-- was it a growl? Or a soft roar? It sounded guttural and deep. She pressed her back against one of the bookshelves, backing herself into a corner and sliding her purse from her shoulder. Her wallet had been thrown into the fabric bag out of convenience, so she could use her small bag with it’s long shoulder strap like a weapon if it was someone-- something?

Marinette put her hand over her chest, trying to calm herself. It was probably an old recording of something-- like a scratched vinyl record or a broken music box. She was working herself up over nothing. Right when she was almost calm though, the noise sounded again, for the first time since she had pressed herself into the nook of bookshelves.

Right behind her.

Squealing and whirling on her heel, she turned, brandishing her purse at-- nothing.  

Just a shelf full of books.

One of which that just happened to be _glowing_ slightly.

Despite her fear, she reached trembling fingers towards the red and silver binding. The spine of the book in question was emblazoned with the word ‘M I R A C U L O U S’. The glowing stopped the moment her fingers touched the book-- and the book fell into her hands in a normal manner, but her breath caught in her throat when she saw that the cover. It was almost a twin to the one from her dream.  This one only had one of the small creatures on the cover however. But apart from that-- the silver embossments, the black outlines on the red cover, everything else was exactly the same.

The latch popped open at the gentlest of touches, and she opened the book and peered at it’s contents. It was hollow, like the one in her dream, but it wasn’t empty. A deck of cards lay inside, across from something inscribed on the back of the front cover in-- was that Italian? But the word at the bottom of the first card was in English. With… Chinese characters on the top of the card as well. She took a moment to admire the woman’s feathered cloak and serene face before puzzling over the conflict of languages.

What was a English-Italian-Chinese book doing inside a Parisian antique shop? It did look quite old, but very well cared for. It was more than a little surprising that something in this good of condition wasn’t underneath the glass of a display case.

She picked up the first card, turning it over in her hand and in turn admiring the lovely circular design on the back. Turning the card back around, she eyed the word at the bottom. English wasn’t her best subject, but she knew enough to sound out the word. “W- Win-windy?”

Like a flash of lightening, the card lit up so bright as to be unbearable to look at and a gust of wind picked up all the dust from the shelves around her, sending her into a fit of coughing. Trying to catch her breath, she opened watery eyes just in time to see the rest of the cards flying from where they had been nestled in the hollow of the book.  Something golden glowed beneath her feet but her eyes were trained on the seemingly endless supply of cards flitting out of the book and-- straight through the ceiling?

Helplessly she clutched the one card-- ‘The Windy’ as she fumbled with the book in her other hand, attempting to close it. But just like the milk at breakfast, it was simply too late. Another mess, all her fault.

The empty book fell to the floor as Marinette’s knees gave out beneath her. Her bags, full of fabric heavily thudded into the bookshelves, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the book. A moment passed and just as she sputtered and looked down at the card in her hand, the empty book began to glow again. She scrambled back on her hands, as something began to emerge from the cover, with a small body and a larger head.

It stretched, spinning in a circle as it arched what-- was probably it’s back? It was so tiny it was hard to tell. It floated effortlessly but she could see no wings. Almost lazily, it opened one bright green eye before yawning, treating her to the sight of a mouth full of tiny little fangs.

Before Marinette knew it she was screaming. “A mouse-- a rat-- a cockroach? What-- wha- AHHH?!?!” Her mouth fumbled over the sounds as she picked up her shopping bags, holding them between her and the creature, brandishing them at the thing.

“I am none of those things, I am a Kwami-- a cat Kwami-- not a pest.” He harrumphed, as though thoroughly offended. “I’m surprised someone like you was actually able to wake me up, as rude as you are.”

Marinette said nothing, just continued to brandish the bag at him with stuttering sounds that was probably meant to be something along the lines of ‘stay back’, but only came out as unintelligible gibberish.

It’s-- his-- French was heavily accented, but it didn’t sound like anything she could place.

Marinette’s laugh was a little hysterical as she eyed the thing over the top of her shopping bags. “Where’s your speaker box-- your batteries-- what’s a high-tech toy doing in an antique shop for goodness sake--.”

“I am NOT a toy!” The Kwami snapped, tiny tail thrashing in annoyance. “My name is Plagg and I am the Beast of the Seal and guardian of this book!”

Marinette leaned back against the bookshelves, dumbstruck, blue eyes wide as she just… looked at the little black cat creature hovering above the upturned empty book. She murmured his name to herself, and that seemed to please him.

“It’s my job to keep the cards in this book safe so they don’t get loose. I’m starving-- do you have anything to eat? I’ve been doing this job with no breaks and no snacks,” His voice was piteously faint as he dramatically laid himself on the book. “For decades!”

“D-decades?”

“Yes!! Now if you could find some chees--” He stopped speaking, bright green eyes fixed and focused as he floated up off of the back of the book’s cover and the book straightened itself, revealing a empty hole where the cards had once rested. He yelped and screamed, diving into the hollow as if the cards had simply turned invisible and were still safely tucked in their space in the book.

“The cards have run off!! Why? What happened!? Where’d they all goooooo--!?” His voice pitched up as he floated anxiously up and down in jagged bursts. Marinette gingerly picked up the ‘Windy’ card, eyeing the ‘Kwami’ as she cleared her throat and held it out for him to take from her.

“Like this?”

He whirled, relief etched into his expressive eyes as he took it, hugging it tightly under one of his tiny arms.

“Exactly! Just like this-- there’s one!” He looked to both her hands, and then around the bookshelf nook expectantly. “And where’s the rest?”

“W-well, I read the word Windy” she winced-- but it seemed when she wasn’t holding the card nothing would happen. She resumed speaking. “And there was this sudden gust of wind-.”

“Uh huh, that’s her thing, yeah!” Plagg interrupted.

“And then they all just… flew away!” Marinette smiled sheepishly at him, hand on the back of her neck. “Sorry about that!”

“WHAAAT?!?!”  The creature flew into her face, it’s small expressive eyes angry and appalled.  “Oh no-- oh no oh no no no no!”

In some distant corner of the shop there was the sound of a tinkling bell. Both Marinette and Plagg’s heads shot up. “Quick-- take the book-- we need to go somewhere we can talk!”

Marinette flailed, getting up, somehow without knocking everything over in the process. Clutching the empty book close to her chest she balked for a moment. “But I didn’t pay for it!”

“The Miraculous book was never a thing that could be bought.”

“But--but this is a store.” Her voice was little more than a hiss.

“Hurry up and LEAVE!” As a… pseudo-cat, his hiss was a lot more compelling than hers. With a yelp, she scrambled towards the front door, shoving the book into her fabric bag before running outside and not stopping until she was all the way home.

Her sides were in stitches as she made it to the first story landing above the bakery and her family’s kitchen and living room.

“Marinette?”

Her mother peered at her from the kitchen and Marinette’s face felt flushed and guilty, like her mother would be able to tell that she had stolen a magical book from an antique shop and was currently smuggling a small flying creature -- Kwami-- whatever in her fabric bags.

“S-sorry mamam, I stopped by an antique shop-- to see about bo--buttons-- buttons, but there were none- I lost track of the time.”

Her stuttering, stilted speech was laughable and awkward, it screamed of guilt, but her mother simply frowned with worry and motioned for Marinette to put her things in her room. Leaning heavily against the railings as the stitch in her sides came back to bite her, she hurried up the stairs and into her attic. Once she was inside, Plagg zipped out of the bag he had been hiding in, looking around at her room.

“Can I eat this?” He zipped over to her desk, picking up her tablet and trying to bite it.

“Don’t!”

He flitted to the other end of her desk, picking up her computer mouse and trying to bite it too.

“S-stop! Stop! I have to go downstairs, I was late for dinner-- behave-- and I’ll get you whatever you want to eat once my parents are asleep for the night! They go to sleep right after dinner!”

Without waiting for a response she threw her bags onto her chaise and hurried back downstairs.  Her parents gave her odd looks, but all the dinner conversation was centered around their work day and her school day. She ate quickly, stopping only to answer their questions and trying to smile reassuringly at them. Though she was sure that the latter was a lost cause. She couldn’t hide how frazzled she was. She made up an excuse about being excited to start on her new costume project in order to slip away from the table once she was done.

She stopped only briefly, to grab a croissant and a stick of string cheese from the fridge-- which got her another set of odd looks. “Sorry-- something to snack on while I’m sewing, s-still a bit peckish!” She flushed and ran back up the stairs before she could make anything else worse for herself.

When she stepped up from the trapdoor, the first thing she noticed was Plagg, faintly glowing green above the closed book on her desk. The next was that her waste basket had been knocked over, spilling paper and fabric shreds onto her floor. She frowned but said nothing, placing the croissant and cheese in front of the… Kwami.

He fell upon the bread and cheese, eating it with vigor. “It’s not camembert, but at least it’s cheese!”

“What were you doing?”

He paused his ecstatic eating, a morose expression falling over his little face.

“I was trying to find them…”

“Any luck?”

She had her answer when his tiny cat-like ears drooped, but he spoke regardless.

“No-- I have no clue where they all went…” He continued eating, slower this time though, talking despite his mouth being full. “This book used to contain all of the Miraculous Cards.”

“Miraculous Cards?”

“Yes.. and now that the seal is broken, this world is on the verge of catastrophe. Those were special cards created by an amazing magician named  Clow Reed, each of them possess incredible powers but they’re all very… independent. Too much personality if you ask me.” Said the little ball of _personality_ with absolutely no shame or self-awareness.

“So no normal people can stand up to them-- so when he passed he sealed them away, and put me and- and put me on the cover.” He continued eating as he spoke. “Anyways-- it doesn’t matter, the bottom line kid, is that I need to get those cards back- and YOU’RE gonna help me do it!”

Marinette sat up straight, her blue eyes wide. “What, why me!”

Plagg gestured at her with the corner piece of the croissant, speaking with his mouth full of bread. “Because-- you’re the one who used Windy to blow them away!”

Marinette puffed up her chest, glaring down at the little Kwami. “But it was your job to make sure they stay sealed away in the first place, wasn’t it?”

Plagg shoved the remainder of the croissant in his mouth, apparently concerned with not talking with his mouth full this one time out of all the others. He didn’t speak till he swallowed the bread, and even then his voice was soft.

“I fell… asleep.”

“You fell asleep? For how long?”

“Well-- probably about Forty years?”

“Forty years?!”

“It might be fifty-- what year is it?”

“2016.”

“So… yeah, probably about fifty-five years?”

“Fifty-five?! So wait-- that noise was you snoring?”

Plagg curled up, pouting and turned away from her, tail thrashing. “Well-- stuff happens alright? It’s a boring job-- with no FOOD!” He whirled, no longer pouting, opting instead to point at her. “Besides, the fact that you were able to open this book means you have some magical ability despite how rude you are. My seals are unbreakable to those without any gifts.”

Marinette fidgeted, frowning but before she could do more than open her mouth to disagree, Plagg and the book were floating over her desk.

“What is your name?”

“Marinette.”

“Great, Marinette-- go stand over there.” He gestured with a tiny paw at the center of her room. Automatically, Marinette moved to obey. Today had been such a strange.. Strange day. Had it really only been her first day of classes?

But those thoughts fell away as Plagg began to glow gold. Without the whipping winds, she was able to see the delicate and complicated design that had appeared glowing beneath her feet. Her eyes struggled to find focus on anything that was ‘her room’, but just like in the dream when she stopped fighting, the book, the magic circle, and Plagg fell into sharp relief.

“Charm of the Seal.”

As soon as the Kwami spoke a small bubble of light slipped out from the open latch of the book. It floated towards her and though she held her hands tightly against her chest she didn’t dare take a step backwards. It felt like she’d fall down a deep hole of nothingness-- like her room wasn’t really around her anymore.

“There is one who wishes to form a contract with you. A girl by the name of Marinette.” The bubble of light delicately rose to be level with her face. There was something inside it, but the light surrounding it was still too bright to make it out.

“Oh lucky charm, grant her power! Release!”

The light flared, and Marinette looked away, throwing her hands up in front of her eyes to protect them. Something grew from the light, elongating into a baton like shape but the colors of it were washed out and hazy amidst the too-bright light.

“Marinette-- grab the staff!”

She reached towards it, grasping onto it with her eyes still averted. The staff lengthened to, becoming red and silver as her eyes slowly adjusted to the fading light. Blinking, she mutely stared at the unconventional looking staff. It was silver and ridged so it wouldn’t slip from her fingers, but it was capped on either end by two half circles that bore a resemblance to the outer shell of a ladybug’s wings. Her room faded back into existence around her as the light and the magic circle on the ground faded into nothing. The staff, book and Kwami still remained.

“Whaaaaat??!” Panicking she dropped the staff, watching as it shrunk in on itself, the two caps of the staff coming together to form a… yoyo? She crouched, poking it nervously. It remained inert. She picked it up and spun it around in her fingers. The design was exactly like that she had seen on the cape in her dream.

“Plagg- what is the meaning of this?!”

 

\--

 

Hours later she was dressed in pajamas and sitting at her sewing desk, working (against her better judgement) on the cape for the ballerina costume. She had gotten very little out of the small black Kwami, he’d been far more intent on the camembert she had found during her trip to the kitchen while her parents were sleeping.

“I can’t do this Plagg, you have the wrong girl.”

“Doesn’t being a magical superhero sound fun?”

“NO! --But Alya-- a new girl in my class, she loves superheros-- you should get her to collect the cards-- she’d LOVE to.”

Plagg picked up the lone Miraculous card, his face looking smug. “Who was it that used this to scatter the cards to the wind again?”

Marinette glared, pinching him by the scruff of the neck as if he were a real kitten. “And who was it who was napping instead of doing their job?” They glared at each other for a moment, at an impasse, till a strong wind blew into her room from her open window.

The pig-tailed teen cried out, trying to catch her half-finished cloak before abandoning it in favor of going to close her window. Plagg was already there, his expression uncharacteristically serious as his eyes scanned the skyline of Paris.

“There! Marinette look!” He pointed with a small paw, and she looked in the direction he pointed. A ghostly figure of a bird loomed in the sky overhead. On the street people screamed and pointed up at it.  At the center of its enormous body was a smaller-- more human like shape.

“That’s probably the fly card-- good, it seems they didn’t go too far! Let’s go!”

He started to dart out of the window but Marinette stopped him by pinching his tail.

“Go and do what, exactly?”

“This is your first job as a cardcaptor! Get it, cardcaptor-- one who captures the cards? Isn’t that cool?”

“I’ve been telling you, I can’t do it! You need to find someone else!”

“Regardless of whether I was asleep or not, it's partially your fault-- and we need to capture it now! Cat--”

“Catastrophe-- I remember, but I’ll only make things _worse_ Plagg-- it’s all I ever do!”

His green eyes bore into hers, still serious, ears flat.

“Well too bad. We need to go before someone gets hurt!” With that he snatched his tail back and started to fly forward again.

“W-wait! How would I even leave without my parent’s finding out? It’s not like I can just-- battle some bird thing in my pajamas!”

His expression became sly and catlike once again, green eyes skating to the half finished cape on her sewing desk.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes-- and as for how you get out, you can use the staff!”

 

\--

 

It had taken fifteen minutes of fumbling, but she had her half finished cloak and unadorned white mask on over her plain pajamas. Her stomach had threatened to fall out of the bottom of her feet as she stood on the railing of her rooftop balcony, lengthening the staff until it hit the street below her. It was like some terrible parody of her dream. As unsettling as the dream had been, at least she had been dressed appropriately-- and had bounded forward with confidence.

Clutching the top of the staff like a fireman’s pole, she slid down until her slippered feet hit the pavement. She hadn’t thought to put on real shoes. Two times a fool now. Plagg flew down beside her, keeping his snickering mockery down to one or two laughing comments.

“Come on, this way! It was flying towards the Arc De Triomphe!”

Frazzled and feeling ill-equipped, she ran to follow him after releasing the staff back to its latent form. After a block, he turned and leveled a thoughtful look at her. “You know, you could have done it again, the staff thing. Pole vaulting will make our trip much faster.”

Marinette shook her head at him, face white. But she said nothing, all this running at top speeds was more than her sleepy normal life had prepared her to do. She needed all the oxygen she had in her lungs to run, not to chat.

It took another fifteen minutes and she could feel pavement beneath the thinning soles of her slippers, but when she arrived at Champs-Elysees, the bird was still there. It’s powerful wingbeats broke glass but the human shape at it’s center did nothing float gently inside it.

“How-- is that man okay? How to I get him out of there? It’s so big!”

“You’ll just have to capture the card!”

“But-- why does it even have a man inside it-- is he part of the card?”

“No, but it takes magic to wield the cards-- the Fly must have found someone with enough latent magic that it could use them to materialize.”

“But why would it do that--” Marinette was glad for the plain mask and the hood. There weren’t very many pedestrians on the street since the bird was still screeching and the powerful winds were enough to send potted plants flying. But there were still a few people around.

“So how do I even catch it??”

“Really? You don’t have any ideas?!”

Their argument was cut short however, as a pedestrian screamed. “Look out!”

The warning was well timed, no sooner had she darted behind a sturdy wooden planter box then the creature had flapped its powerful wings. It’s large eyes were focused on her. Purpose glinted in their animalistic depths. It did not wish to be captured.

With a horrible keening cry it launched itself off of the Arc De Triomphe and towards her, gliding rather than pumping it’s powerful wings. A small blessing, as it allowed her to run in the opposite direction rather than be flattened to the ground.

“Plagg-- what do I DO?!”

“I don’t know-- but we have to stop it before it destroys the whole street-- or worse, it hurts someone!”

Marinette’s blood ran cold. She had seen the broken glass, but she hadn’t realized fully how easily that could translate to someone getting hurt-- or even killed-- in the chaos of the bird’s powerful flapping.  It pumped its wings to keep aloft and the wind sent Marinette spiraling into the air. Plagg grabbed her by the scruff of her hooded cloak, gently setting her down as she stumbled to stay upright while still running away from the pursuing bird.

“How Plagg?!”

 “Use the charm-- like I showed you before!”

Still running, Marinette held the two innocent looking earrings the palm of her hand. She stumbled, but they stayed securely in her hand as if they were held there by gentle but firm fingertips. Her steps slowed as she used precious breaths to recite the spell Plagg had taught her just after dinner.

“Oh lucky charm which conceals the power of miracles!

Reveal your true power before me!

By the contract to which we are bound!

Miraculous!”

The posts of the earrings merged, and they twirled in the air above her palm until they had formed the shape of her staff, growing and lengthening until it was as it had first appeared.

“Okay Marinette- the Fly card is under the dominion of the element of air, so you should be able to capture it using your Windy card!”

Marinette continued running, looking back over her shoulder at the rapidly approaching bird. It was too fast-- it would catch up with her before she could even think of out running it. Thinking fast she flattened herself to the street, looking back up in time to see the bird’s claws soar over her head. She scrambled back to her feet eyes full of frustrated tears.

“I don’t know HOW Plagg--.” She stopped and stared at the card in her hand as a hairbrained scheme half formed in her mind. “Distract it! I have an idea!” To his credit, Plagg turned, darting for the bird’s face, but he only managed to get as far as half the distance between its face and where they were before a gust of the wind sent him through the sky in the opposite direction.

But Marinette was too busy to see his flight, instead she had worked her way towards the side of the street, almost flush against the line of shops. She waved scared huddling Parisians and tourists out of her way, her hood and cloak fluttering around her like a red halo.  She stepped onto a bench and jumped as high as she could. Extending her staff underneath her like a pole vault as she soared high into the air. With a grunt, she landed on the bird’s outstretched wing, screaming slightly as she rolled towards the center of it’s enormous back. It was slightly transparent and from where she held on, if she had been able to reach into the bird she could have almost touched the middle-aged man inside. He was wearing a old suit and silly hat and his limbs were long and thin. His hands were clutched around something that he held over his chest but since she could only see his back, she couldn’t tell what it was.

Now that it’s prey was squarely on it’s back, the bird began rising higher into the air. She tried not to let panic swamp her as the tops of the city’s buildings fell away beneath her. Phantom feathers threaded between her fingers alongside the ‘Windy’ card as she twirled her staff with her other hand.

“Wind-- become a binding chain! Windy!” As soon as she spoke, the golden runic circle appeared below her and she threw the card up in front of her. Gracefully,  the card waited for the tap of her staff before the being she had seen depicted in it burst from the thin paper.  The woman’s elfish features were serene as she danced around the neck, wings and torso of the bird, immobilizing it.  The bird began to fall from the sky, though once it made contact with the ground the only sign it had done so was the flattening of the grass underneath it’s transparent body.

Grateful it hadn’t left a crater in the lawn in front of the Eiffel Tower, Marinette slid off it’s back, darting to stand before it and raising her staff. The man inside the bird look no worse for the fall either she noted with relief. He still clutched something tightly to his chest though. Shaking her head, she raised the staff higher and cried out to the card.

“No more mischief for you! Return to your original form, Miraculous!” The bird folded in on itself, being slowly pulled back into the form of a card. With the soft sigh of a breeze it finally finished, floating gently into her hand along side the Windy card.”

“You did it! You caught the Fly card! I knew you could!”

Plagg had finally caught up with her, and in his happiness he rubbed against her cheek. Marinette giggled and held out a hand for him to rest on. “T-thank you-- that was terrifying!” But before she could get too distracted with her celebrations, the sound of a soft moan interrupted her.

She ran forward, tucking the cards into her pocket and using her now free hand to help the man to sit up.

“Wha-- what happened?”

He looked tired and confused, but not injured. Marinette let out a sigh of relief.

“You-- got caught up in some magic. What’s the last thing you remember?”

His face, gangly and awkward but kind, darkened suddenly. “A woman-- she struck-- oh no!” He pulled his hands away from his chest, revealing a calmly cooing bird. “H-how? It was dying!” Tears sprung up in his eyes. The pigeon looked no worse for its adventures either, though it sat there more tamely than any wild bird had any right to.

“She swung her p-purse at it, and it was so badly hurt-- a broken wing at the least-- it’s-- it’s a miracle!” The man continued to cry as he held the bird so gently, stroking it’s tiny head with relief.

Marinette eyed her Kwami, confusion clear on her face. Plagg flew towards the bird, looking unimpressed at the tiny miracle.

“That’s why Fly came to him Ma--.” He cut himself off from calling her by her name in front of the trembling man. “It sensed his desire to help this bird. Fly loves to help it’s winged brethren.”

Marinette nodded, reaching out to stroke the calm bird’s head while the Pigeon-Man collected himself.

“T-thank you so much!”

Marinette looked up at him startled by his thanks, acutely aware now that she was standing before him in the most ridiculous get up imaginable. Ruffled hair, pajamas, house slippers… a red and black hooded cloak that still had pins in it, and a white leather domino mask.

“No worries--.” She laughed awkwardly, tucking her arms beneath her cloak to hide her pajamas, though she could do nothing to hide the scuffed hems of her pants and shoes. “Take care-- goodbye!” She scrambled away, intent on running home until Plagg stopped her.

“W-what-- I need to get home, what if someone checks up on me because of the news?”

The cat’s smile was smug. “I just thought you’d like to get home an easier way.”

“Huh?”

“Fly!-- once you write your name on it, it’ll recognize you as it’s mistress. And you can use it to fly home.”

She patted her pockets and had no luck finding a pen. Awkwardly she accepted one from the Pigeon-Man, who she’d only managed to get five steps from. She signed her name on the bottom of Windy and Fly, before handing the pen back to the suited man and tapping the card gently with the end of her staff. Large, insect like wings unfolded the top half of her staff’s round ladybug cover. Quickly she jumped astride it and kicked off into the air before the confused bird-lover could stare any longer.

They flew towards her house, keeping to the shadows of rooftops so as not to be spotted as she made her way home.

“Hey Plagg.”

“Yeah?”

“Why did Windy obey me-- I didn’t write my name on her until just now…”

“I guess that means she likes you.”

Plagg’s smile was oddly gentle, though it was ruined by him collapsing onto the staff in front of her hands, moaning and holding his stomach dramatically. “With all that excitement, I’ve completely worked off that camembert you fed me earlier-- I simply must get more!”

Marinette rolled her eyes but grinned. “Alright Plagg, you cheese-brain.”

She turned her attention back to the bright and shining city lights below her, smile widening.

“It’s great, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It really is.”

“We’ll catch the rest in no time, you’ll see!”

“Hopefully… Wait-- I didn’t agree to do this yet!”

Plagg said nothing, just leveling a smug grin at her as they continued on their way home.  



	2. Marinette and the Test of Strength

She didn’t know what she had expected when she stepped into class the next day, but this wasn’t it.

Everyone had their phones out. Everyone was whispering amongst themselves in small groups and despite how close it was to the start of class (she still hadn’t _technically_ been tardy yet),  Madame Bustier seemed just as distracted as all of her students.

Alya had her laptop out and was typing a million meters a minute as Marinette moved to sit down beside her. The redhead had not noticed her approach, but that was more than made up for by the beaming look she leveled at Marinette when their shared bench seat shifted when she sat down.

“Marinette! Girl, I got the best video ever last night!”

Trying not to break out into a cold sweat, Marinette’s mouth flapped noiselessly as she attempted to come up with a natural response. “O-oh? What’s going on? What kind of video?”

Alya blinked, looking surprised. Her fingers slowed till they were resting gently on her keyboard. “You didn’t see? I thought all of Paris had seen!”

Marinette panicked, realizing she had played it a little too oblivious, but Alya’s disbelief was soon swallowed up by excitement.

“Well then you’ll love this!” She opened a new tab on her laptop, typing out a URL and hitting enter before Marinette had time to make out what it was.

She stopped trying to read it when the video thumbnail, Fly, in enormous bird form loaded onto the page. Alya hit play and the sounds of Marinette’s adventure began to play out softly from the speakers, earning them an audience.

The pigtailed teen watched, blue eyes wide with disbelief while she saw footage of the bird flying down Champ-Elysees after… herself. Alya had been there? It was no wonder she hadn’t noticed Alya, what with being chased by the enormous bird, but had the girl really been that close to all the danger? In a detached sort of way she watched her cape and hood flap in the wind as she flew into the air and onto the bird’s back.

But the video wasn’t finished… Alya mounted it, somehow, on the front of a bicycle, pointing it at the night sky. The bird drifted in and out of frame, with no human hand to help focus it directly on the action, but it caught glimpses of the enormous bird being wrapped with Windy’s chains.

With dawning horror, she realized that Alya had somehow accurately predicted the Fly’s landing as the camera was adjusted mid-ride to point towards the ground at the distant lawn of the Eiffel Tower. The bird and chains began blurring into a mass of white and yellow that funneled into a spot too small as to be visible by the camera.

When she had been recalling the card back to it’s normal form, she realized.

There was a sudden cut in the footage, probably cutting out a minute or two of travel, if the panting from Alya on the bicycle was anything to go by. But the dedicated camera woman was now on the lawn of the Eiffel Tower.

Where a lone man sat, huddled in on himself.

Alya’s camera tilted slightly to the side before she appeared in front of it and it became apparent that she had kicked down the stand of her bicycle and had run to the man. The shot that her bicycle had set up was framed wonderfully though, just close enough to see the man’s face and shoulders.

 _“Are you okay?”_ Her friend’s voice filled the classroom. It was strange in the way that recorded voices often were.

She and the man spoke too softly for the camera’s mic to pick up, but it was clear when he pointed at the bird and then himself, and then off camera that they were talking about her. Alya ran towards the camera and followed the direction of the Pigeon-Man’s pointing.

And there she was… Marinette swallowed, glad that the thought had never even crossed her mind to take off her hooded cloak. The red, black-spotted cloak fluttered behind her as she flew through the air, towards her house.

“Alright class-- I know this has been an unusual situation-- but we really should--.” Madame Bustier began but she fell silent when the camera turned back towards the man on the ground, the video not done.

Marinette hadn’t noticed when everyone had crowded their bench to watch the screen, but somehow they’d all managed to do so, even their teacher.

_“Sir, could I bother you for an interview?”_

Marinette watched in shock as the Pigeon-man recounted what he had told her, though with a little more composure now that he had cried himself out. Alya prompted him to hold the bird out so the camera could inspect the healthy, calm pigeon. Her inquisitive friend also asked for a detailed description of the injuries the bird had sustained before the man had lost his memories.

The bird really had been on the verge of death.

Alya’s questions were insightful and thorough. They painted the man in a sympathetic light, as someone who had been kidnapped by an enormous magical being for the better part of an hour. After a few more questions she said her farewells to the man.

Madame Bustier opened her mouth as if to call the class to order again, but fell silent when Alya bumped the video to reveal that there was still more time on the progress bar.

Marinette’s eyebrows shot upwards. What else could their possibly be. Relief washed over her when the next shot after the cut in the video wasn’t her landing on her rooftop above her family’s bakery. Instead it was Champ-Elysees. Alya narrated over the damage, reporting straight from the ambulance workers that there hadn’t been anything more serious than small cuts from broken glass.

Marinette could have kissed her friend as her entire body sagged with relief. She hadn’t realized how much she had been worried about the possibility of people getting hurt or enormous property damage until her friend pointed out how little of it there actually had been.

At Alya’s raised brow she smiled nervously and offered a weak but sincere, “Thank goodness no one was hurt.”

The video ended with Alya, looking exhausted but excited, in what was probably her bedroom.

_“Thank you for tuning in! For all the latest information about the mysterious masked ladybug girl and the magical happenings of Paris, come here to the Ladyblog!”_

Marinette blinked as the video faded to black before cutting out. Ladybug? She rubbed her right earring a little self-consciously. She had thought they had looked like ladybugs… but Alya hadn’t been close enough to see that, had she? Marinette tried to replay the video in her head, to little avail.

Luckily, Rose piped up from them. “Why Ladybugs… Alya?” The pixieish blonde smiled cheerfully when Alya nodded reassuringly.

Alya’s grin was infectious, if the expressions on her classmates faces were anything to go by, though Marinette herself still felt off kilter and nervous.

“I’m glad you asked---”

“Rose.” Marinette supplied quietly, realizing she hadn’t introduced her new friend to the rest of the class properly on their first day. She’d remedy that today she promised herself.

“Rose! Here’s some screenshots from the video I took last night!”

As the amatuer reporter pulled up screencaps of the ends of Marinette's staff, Marinette couldn’t stop but wonder if the bespectacled girl had gotten any sleep last night. There were dark circles under her brown eyes, but she was still as alert and excited as could be.

Alya discussed with some of their classmates about the design on the caps of the staff, and the more obvious design on the back of the cloak. Marinette tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Alya say, “And if I’m wrong, I’ll change the blog and put an annotation on the video, but for now it’s the best guess, since she didn’t announce her name or anything!”

Madame Bustier finally called the class to order with a comment on how that was enough ‘catching up with current events.’ As though that would legitimize the gossip session that the first half of class had devolved into.

As if she had been privy to Marinette’s inner worries about her friend’s lack of sleep, the moment class began in earnest, Alya had propped her cheek up with her fist and promptly fallen asleep. It would have been hilarious if it wasn’t a bit worrying. Though she supposed it wasn’t too out there to imagine Alya doing all the things she’d done last night at the expense of sleep. Not when she thought back to the bundle of enthusiasm she’d been about Majestia.

Though she’d hardly call herself a superhero.

Marinette frowned and turned her eyes towards Madame Bustier, though her thoughts were far from her classwork.

 

\--

 

When Marinette opened her bag later to pull out her sketchbook during a break between classes, it was all she could do to keep from shutting it with a scream. Frantically she looked at Alya who, looking quite refreshed from her in-class nap, hadn’t noticed her freaking out.

Snapping her purse shut, she was treated to a nose full of a _pungent_ smell. She made a face and slung her purse over her shoulder, only offering the quick excuse of ‘Bathroom!’ before scampering out of Alya’s line of sight.

She checked under the stall doors, relieved to see no one’s feet, before jumping into the stall furthest from the door and opening her purse again.

The smell of camembert filled the stall.

Plagg looked not at all abashed to be caught disobeying her direct orders for him to stay home and out of sight in her room while she was at school.

“What are you doing here?!” She hissed at him.

“I should stick with you, what if there’s a card out causing a panic while you’re at sch--.”

Marinette snapped her purse shut again to muffle him when the door to the bathroom swung open.

“You don’t have to follow me everywhere Sabrina. Give me some privacy!”

Chloe’s voice drifted into the bathroom. Instinctively, Marinette jumped up on top of the toilet seat lid to hide her feet. The bathroom door shut as Sabrina left, but Chloe remained. There was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever during which Marinette silently opened her purse, pressing her finger against her lips to keep Plagg from speaking.

He floated gently out from her purse, darting up to the top of the bathroom stall she was occupying to stare out at the uncharacteristically quiet Chloe.

The muted sound of a phone ringing broke the silence. For the first time in the three years Marinette had known Chloe, she didn’t sound… haughty or spoiled.

“Papa, no one knows who she is at school either.”

Marinette grasped tightly at the tops of the stall, holding her breath.

Chloe was talking about her.

“Like I told you, the new girl in my class was the one who posted the video. There was more of it than the news showed this morning. I’ll send you the link.”

Did the blonde sound… subdued?

“It’s… it’s too late Papa. I lost my chance.”

Marinette didn’t think she’d ever heard Chloe sound so heartbroken before. Scared as she was, confusion engulfed her. How could her showing up to capture cards mean that Chloe had lost her chance? A chance at what? She’d been too busy freaking out to look at the faces of her classmates while they had been watching the video of her capture of the Fly.

Had Chloe been watching too? Would she have been able to tell that _this_ had been lurking underneath the blonde’s expression?

“I’ll see you at home.”

There was a moment of silence before the door opened then shut again. And Marinette was alone in the bathroom once more.

She sagged, hopping down from the toilet lid, beckoning for Plagg to return to her purse.

“Just-- just stay quiet okay? And could you _NOT_ smuggle camembert into my purse? Any other cheese-- but I don’t want to stink at school.” Plagg flicked his tail at her in a saucy and argumentative manner. Groaning softly, she was sure that he’d be quick to do the exact opposite of what she had told him at every opportunity.

“Why couldn’t you like cookies or bread or something? I live above a bakery for heaven’s sake.” Shaking her head, she closed the purse again, stepping to the sink to wash her hands before leaving. Alya might be wondering what was taking her so long.

 

She needn't have worried. Alya was using their last free moments before Ms. Mendeleiev’s class began with her laptop open and typing with awe-inspiring speed. Marinette slipped into her seat beside the girl, tucking her purse on the outside edge, rather than between Alya and herself. It wouldn’t do for Plagg to say something and have it picked up by the ever attentive reporter.

“What are you working on?”

Alya grinned, turning her laptop so that Marinette could see again. From the corner of her eye, she realized they had once again become the center of their classmates attention, though all of them were too shy to step up and join the conversation in earnest.

“I’m setting up more of the site! There’s a forum section, and a image gallery, and the main blog for my video of what happened. I already have over 400 registered accounts to the forum!” At her friend’s tepid reaction, Alya rolled her eyes. Though she was still grinning.

“That’s HUGE Marinette, and it’s not even slowing down yet-- if something else happens I can’t even imagine how much bigger it’ll get!”

“You think something else will happen?”

“Yes! Well-- I didn’t report on this, because it wasn’t a lot to go on, and I wanted better pictures, but-- wait a minute.” Alya leaned down, pulling out a notebook and flipping to a page near the beginning. She spread out the notebook and Marinette felt her breath catch in her throat at the crude drawings of the two Miraculous cards she had in her possession.

They weren’t the right size, and they were plain and over simplified. But they were close enough. She felt like the two cards in her bag would emit a bright beacon and reveal her for the fraud she was. Luckily no such thing happened.

“What are those?” Alix had been the one to break the silence of their watching classmates.

“According to the man who was trapped in the bird, the ladybug girl had two cards with her. He leant her a pen to write something on the bottom of them and he got a pretty good look at them, he didn’t see what she wrote, but he said these were pretty close to what he saw.”

Alya was terrifying.

Marinette was thankful that their teacher slammed her palm down on her desk and called them all to order. It saved her from having to come up with something natural to say. The classroom murmured and whispered, only quieting when Ms. Mendeleiev’s harsh eye was turned on them directly. But she couldn’t look at everyone at once. When her critical eye was focused on someone else, Alya leaned on Marinette’s shoulder so she could continue what she had been saying in hushed voice.

“Anyways-- it doesn’t make sense that there’d only be two cards right? So there’s probably more.” Marinette simply nodded, thankful for the excuse of being worried about getting caught. It meant she didn’t have to stutter a response.

The day continued in more or less a normal fashion from that point on. The mysterious ladybug girl was still the talk each class, and each teacher had their own way of responding to the student’s need to gossip about current events. But by the end of the day, most teachers had given up.

Marinette’s grin was sheepish. She no longer had to introduce Alya to their classmates at least. Everyone wanted to talk to the new girl today. And Alya for her part was ready and willing to talk, not at all tongue tied or nervous, estatically discussing theories ranging from aliens to sorcerers and secret scientific experiments.

The class took turns crowding around Alya and Marinette’s desk until the group of them had convinced their exasperated history and political science instructor that this was a wonderful classroom discussion topic. He allowed Alya to commandeer the projector and finally the knot of people swamping Marinette’s desk dispersed, now that Alya was leading the discussion from the front of the classroom.

The mood of the classroom was airy and excited, like it was the day before a holiday break, when no teachers bothered to try drill facts and figures into their pupil’s distracted minds. If it hadn’t filled Marinette with anxiety every time she was subjected to the still images of herself flying over the rooftops of Paris or doing battle with Fly, it would have been a good day.

As it was, she just focused on remaining calm and quiet and as unnoticeable as possible. She wasn’t the only one who was quiet however. Her eyes cut to Chloe across the classroom. The blonde had said very little when the new girl had taken over. Nothing biting or condescending.

She even appeared to be paying attention.  Her expression was even nearly… pensive?

It was… odd.

 

\--

 

Marinette sat in silence as she worked over her sewing machine. Normally she liked to listen to music while she worked, but her thoughts felt overfilled today. It was all she could do to focus on the sewing pattern underneath her fingertips.

“Plagg, how many cards are there?”

The little Kwami had been playing Mecha-Strike III at her computer desk, eating more of the foul smelling camembert. But at her question, he paused the game, floating over to sit on her sewing machine. His look was furtive and secretive and not one bit reassuring. He watched her sew for a moment, tail flicking from side to side.

“Plagg.”

“I don’t think I should tell you.”

Marinette glowered at him. “And why not?”

Plagg laid down on the top of her sewing machine, as if looking as relaxed and easy going as possible would temper the new Card Mistress’s reaction.

“There are fifty-two.”

Marinette jammed her sewing machine when she jerked the fabric too far backwards. Mild cursing followed as she busied herself with fixing the damage she had caused in her shock. Conveniently thinking about anything other than the enormous number dropped on her by her Kwami.

Plagg’s expression was the epitome of ‘I told you so.’

“F-fifty is too much Plagg, I can’t possibly catch that many!”

“You can and you will. There’s not many with enough magic to contain the cards. And if you don’t, they’ll run loose. They’re not bad-- but they can really hurt someone and break a lot of things if they’re not stopped. They can’t --don’t-- understand how much more powerful they are than everything else around them.”

Marinette deflated, slumping over her fixed and finished costume. “Great… just… **_great_ **.”

Plagg patted her cheek in what was probably supposed to be a consoling manner, but it was ruined by his smug grin. “You’ll do fine.” With that, he returned to his cheese and his game. Marinette turned her exasperated grimace towards the cloak and mask she hadn’t touched since the night before.

“I should probably finish these then… if I have fifty more to collect.” Saying it aloud didn’t make it sound any more real.

Plagg nodded, obviously distracted by the game and food. “Surprising really, you had that before I’d shown you the staff. What made you pick ladybugs?”

“It’s stupid.. But.. I had a dream about you.”

Expecting to hear his high pitched laugh at her expense, the sudden silence that swept over the room took her by surprise. She turned her chair to make eye contact with him. He was staring. The red and black mech was beating up his black and green one in the background, since he’d neglected to pause it this time.

“WHAT?!”

Marinette hurriedly shushed him, wishing immediately that she had not forgone her normal music. This little pest was so loud her parents would hear him.

“I had a dream-- keep your voice down!”

“What did your dream look like?”

Marinette fidgeted, but since he had lowered his voice she couldn’t find any fault with his question.

“I was standing on my roof, dressed in a red and black costume.” When his eyes shot to the one she had just finished she shook her head. He didn’t interrupt for once. “There were cards falling all around me, but something was calling me towards the Eiffel Tower. I jumped towards it and then I woke up-- oh, but before that I had seen the front of the book.” She lifted her hand and set it gently on the Miraculous book and the two cards it currently held.

Plagg looked thoughtful, tiny arms and legs crossed as he floated in-pose. “You should document your dreams very carefully Marinette, prophetic dreams are both a blessing and a curse, but I’d expect nothing less to befall the Miraculous holder.”

Marinette worried her lower lip between her teeth, nodding hesitantly.

He flitted around, landing next to the mask she was currently working red dye into. “Ladybugs and black cats are two halves of a pair when it comes to the Miraculous Cards. So it makes sense that in you’d fill one of those roles in your dreams.” There was something to his tone she couldn’t place… almost… wistful?

“Would it be okay to go by that then, you think?”

Plagg looked surprised, canting his oversized head to one side.

“Well-- Alya’s name for me is better than anything else I could think of. I’ll just go by ‘Ladybug’.”

The pleased grin that spread over his face was confusing, but he didn’t offer any explanation for it.

“I think that’d be just fine, Ladybug. You’ll make a fine Cardcaptor.”

There was definitely something he wasn’t saying. But the day had been too full of confusion and excitement. She’d make him explain another time. For now, she’d focus on the mask and hood, forgetting about Plagg’s cards, Alya’s blog and Chloe’s odd behavior.

 

\--

 

She’d finished her mask and cloak before falling asleep at her sewing desk. Plagg had nudged her awake just long enough for her to crawl into her lofted bed. That had probably saved her a lot of back aches this morning. But any credit she would have given him for that charitable act was erased by his actions first thing in the morning.

“ ** _How could you_** **Plagg**?!” Marinette stormed around her room, collecting homework and brushing her hair in a mad panic.

The Kwami looked not at all contrite, eating some cheese that she wasn’t going to ask how he had procured.

“You should wake up then. If you just let it go on for an hour I’m going to turn it off. A cat has got to sleep Marinette.”

“It went off for _maybe_ fifteen minutes, you hissy primadona!” Marinette shook a fist at him, trembling with anger. But Plagg simply resumed eating, promptly ignoring her. He only lifted a paw when he pushed the Miraculous book into her bag when she would have left home without it.

Rolling her eyes, she took them, but pointedly shut her backpack and purse tightly before leaving him in her room with strict instructions to _stay out of sight and stay home_. He huffed, but he didn’t appear too put out at the idea of staying home and stuffing his yapping maw with camembert and cheese danishes.

 

She was late, which earned her a look from Madame Bustier, but since she had been technically on time for the first and second day, this tardy didn’t earn a trip to the principal’s office. Sighing with relief, she slid into her seat next to Alya, who looked like she wanted nothing more than to be somewhere where she could pull out her laptop.

It took no less than a minute before a note was slid across the desk to her.

Alya: “Eight-hundred forum users and counting!!!!”

Despite the wave of nerves that threatened to overwhelm her, it was hard not to catch some of Alya’s enthusiasm. So many exclamation points.

Marinette, wishing she had spent more time coming up with natural responses to conversations revolving around her secret magical activities, opted to write nothing, but drew a excited looking smiley face under Alya’s news. She wouldn’t ruin this for Alya, it wasn’t her new friend’s fault that this was a way less enticing prospect to her.

The day progressed much as their first day had, with only murmured conversations about the news from the previous day and much more paying attention to the lectures. Probably much to the relief of their teachers. Unfortunately it also meant the return of other more ordinary activities.

In Kim’s case, that apparently meant antagonizing Ivan. Again.

This time when Ivan stood up, Marinette, stood up too and moved between the pair of boys. It wouldn’t do Ivan any good to get sent to the Principal’s office again. And on the third day of school as well.

“Kim!” Ivan's voice was loud and  _angry._

Since Marinette stood between them, Ivan hadn’t raised his fist, which probably had saved him the same treatment as last time from Madame Bustier. She still snapped at him to sit down and behave. Ivan spluttered and made fists at his sides, but didn’t move to obey.

Kim, who’s smug expression hadn’t been anywhere to be seen when there had been no one standing between him and Ivan’s fists, looked wholly self-assured.

“Look at you, can’t even stand up to me yourself, even meek-Marinette can keep you in line.”

Marinette whirled on the boy she’d known since primary school, looking anything but meek. His words had a much bigger effect on their intended target however. If maybe not the effect that had been intended. Ivan sagged, stumbling down the steps of their classroom’s raised seats and out the door before the teacher could say more than his name.

The teacher had followed Ivan outside, but too slowly, if the fact that she came back in without him was anything to go by. “Kim. The Principal’s office. Now.” Kim looked appropriately ashamed, though that would do Ivan no good now.

The damage was done.

Rubbing her face in one hand, Madame Bustier went to the phone in the corner of the classroom calling up the faculty lounge and quietly informing her off-duty coworkers about the situation.

Marinette sat down, wondering if, once again, she had made things worse. If she had not stepped in, the teacher would have prevented Ivan from hitting Kim… and Kim wouldn’t have had ammunition for his ‘emasculating’ crack at Ivan’s expense.

Sighing, she lowered her head on her folded arms. She should have stayed out of it. Ivan probably wouldn’t have gotten into too much trouble, and now he was so embarrassed he had fled the classroom. Something on the ground caught her eye, it was crumpled in a hard tight ball. Marinette swooped down and quickly picked it up. Unscrunching it took work, but it answered any unresolved questions her mind had half been forming over the unfortunate incident.

“You can’t even tell Mylene that you love her,

Why don’t you grow a pair.”

Marinette scowled, turning to face Kim before she remembered he was on his way to the Principal’s office. With a sigh, she folded the unpleasant note into squares multiple times. It wouldn’t do for someone else to read it and tease Ivan when he got back-- or worse, for Mylene to read it and find out that Ivan had been picked on for anything to do with her.

But the note did confirm her nagging feeling of doubt. She had made things worse by stepping in. If he had proven he could stand up to himself without someone coming to his rescue, he probably wouldn’t have been half as embarrassed by the whole situation. Marinette resolved to find some way to apologize to him for her misstep.

She looked casually over her shoulder to get a look at Mylene. The cherubic girl with a head full of colorful braids normally looked like a cheerful nature spirit. But right now her face was awash with worry. There might be a good chance that the feelings were mutual. Maybe she could ask Mylene about Ivan later. It’d only be natural after this in-class mess.

She didn’t have more than a moment to start brainstorming on how she could go about that plan before a thunderous noise echoed all through the school. Students stood up, screaming in surprise. Madame Bustier tried to calm everyone down, but another tremor rocked the school, sending many of the standing students to the ground.

The sensation of the bells, like from her dream of the book washed over Marinette and she clutched at her desk, trying to figure out what she could do if this strange sensation was a Miraculous card. Luck was with her for once, because Madame Bustier had decided that it would be safest to evacuate the classroom in case there was another tremor.

In the confusion of the hallway she slipped away from her classmates, running directly home. She had the cards and her lucky charm, but she was in no way prepared to face this alone. Oh why had she insisted Plagg stay home today? She slipped in the back door and up the stairs. Her parents would be in the bakery or the store’s kitchen at this time of day, so she didn’t have to worry about the questions they’d be sure to have if she had shown up randomly during school hours.

The moment the trap door to her room was open Plagg was in her face, expression serious. “A card! I sens--”

“I sensed it too! It’s at my school!”

“Then why are you here? I was going to head there now!”

Marinette gestured to the cloak and mask that rested on her dressmaking mannequin. “Alya is no doubt going to be there recording--.”

Plagg seemed appeased by that logic, though he still looked thoughtful. “But if you show up in the same clothes that you were wearing today, even with the cloak and mask, someone’s sure to recognize you.”

Marinette winced, looking down at her pink capris and  white floral shirt. It wasn’t the most eye catching or memorable thing she’d ever worn, but it wouldn’t exactly make it difficult to guess who she was either. Desperately, she dove into her wardrobe looking for something to change into. Dresses and skirts as far as the eye could see-- nothing that would be suitable for the possible acrobatics and stunts she’d need to pull to catch whatever card was causing chaos at her campus.

Her eyes caught sight of the ballerina costume she had finished the night before and she swallowed. It was hard not to see it like part of a self-fulfilling prophecy. She had dreamed she would wear a costume she had designed while doing something with the cards. Even if it hadn’t been this exact costume…

Marinette quickly dressed, grateful she had included poofy and flexible shorts underneath the tutu and over the leotard. Putting on the mask and hooded cloak last she moved to go back downstairs before she thought better of it and slipped out onto her roof balcony.

Plagg looked a little bemused and excited, despite his earlier worry about the card. “You look ridiculous.”

“It’s all I had Plagg-- it’s for a ballerina, not for magic fighting!”

With little fanfare, she released her lucky charm and called upon the Fly card to transform her staff back into it’s strange version of a witch’s broom. Luckily all eyes on the street were drawn towards the front of College Francoise Dupont so no one saw her descend from the roof of her parent’s bakery. She did garner a lot of attention the moment she landed however.

It was hard to focus on any of those things though, when she spotted what had undoubtedly made the school shake so hard.

It was Ivan.

Except… it wasn’t.

Something about the way he carried himself was different. So much so that it was apparent to anyone who looked that the boy wasn’t inside the vacant body that stood before her.

“Oh god, Plagg-- is he okay?”

“He’s fine-- he’s just been taken over by a card-- like the man was with Fly!”

“But what card is it?”

That was as far as their conversation got before Ivan’s body turned towards her.

“You will not interfere.”

The voice sent chills down her spine. It was like something had borrowed Ivan’s vocal cords. There was no soul there-- just instinct and insurmountable power. The voice was enough to send onlookers crashing down to the ground, braced on their hands and knees.

Plagg had clasped his paws over his flattened ears. “It’s the Power card! I’d recognize her voice anywhere!” Marinette struggled not to mimic him, her staff held between her and Power like it could shield her from the overwhelming boom of it’s voice.

“Why Power thooOOUGH?!”

Ivan jumped forward, lunging towards her. Marinette extended the staff, using it to lift herself up and backwards, stumbling to land a few meters away from the small cracks in the pavement that had formed beneath Ivan’s feet.

“She respects those with power Marinette.” Plagg held onto the upper hem of her cloak tightly. “This boy-- is he particularly strong?”

Marinette nodded, continuing to run the block around the school as Power chased her in Ivan’s body. “He is-- but he was made fun of today-- for being too weak. So why would Power pick him?”

Plagg shook his head. “That’s just that much more attractive to Power-- someone with unrecognized potential-- she’s a proud card. She likes a challenge and she’s unstoppable. Someone disrespecting someone with power she’d see as a personal insult!”

Well-- that explained everything. Too late though- she realized that in darting around the school block she’d run directly into the bulk of evacuated student body. She tried to rectify her mistake by calling on the Fly again and darting in a different direction, but the damage, once again, was done.

Power-Ivan leveled it’s immense gaze on their classmates. Pink eyes searching for a specific figure. Cursing her luck, Marinette swooped in front of the students, trying in vain to distract Power from Ivan’s vendetta. Body filled with fear for Kim’s safety and Ivan’s future if Power did anything to the jerky-jock, she didn’t have time to be nervous about the fact that Alya had appeared in corner of the her vision phone out and already recording.

“Kim!” Power had spotted the boy amongst their huddled classroom.

“I-Ivan?”

Marinette landed, twirling and brandishing her staff at Power. “Release the boy Power-- this isn’t right.” To her surprise, her voice sounded much more assured than it had any right to be. She hoped none of her classmates could recognize it.

“I will not be called weak.”

“You aren’t weak-- and neither is Iv--that boy! Release him!”

Power disregarded her in favor of advancing on the cowering Kim.

“It’s no use Marinette,” Plagg whispered into her ear. “Power is the only thing she respects, you’ll need to challenge her.”

“To what?” Her voice cracked, mortified, but it was soft and thankfully too quiet for any of the on-lookers to hear.

His expression was grim.

“To something you can win.”

With a groan, Marinette darted between Power and Kim, feeling an odd sense of deja vu. Maybe Madame Bustier would break up this fight too… Though that was a little too much to hope for now...

Power threw her to the side like she was a rag-doll-- and she landed flat against a wall, screaming out in pain.

“Marinette-- Marinette! Are you okay?!” Plagg’s voice swam in and out of her ears, as she groaned and rolled onto her hands and knees, gasping for breath, waving at him to try and reassure him. She had no time to collect herself though, as she heard the gasping of Kim. She stumbled as she ran back towards them. Hands out stretched as she watched Kim being held up by his throat.

“Wait wait-- I challenge you!”

It was if a switch had been flipped. Ivan dropped Kim and turned, Power’s pink eyes glowing with indignant rage.

“Who dares to challenge me?”

She floundered for a moment before Plagg hissed the name Alya had supplied for her in her ear. “My name is Ladybug, it is I who challenge you!” Somewhere off to the far left she could have sworn she heard a gasp of delight from Alya.

“Name your challenge.”

Marinette balked, mind racing a meter a minute trying to come up with something she could beat something with enormous power at. She had no time though, as when no answer had been forth coming, Power lunged forwards towards her again, in Ivan’s body.

She stumbled backwards, yelling out the first thing that came to her mind. “T-tug of war!” Power finally halted.

Power-Ivan leaped forward, pulling a vine from the side of the school. A mass of them fell to the ground, ripped from the wall. But the card wrapped a lone vine around Ivan’s large hand. It’s pink eyes full of pride and victory.  “Challenge accepted, Ladybug.”

Marinette took up her end of the vine. And in the moment before the tugging started, she tried again to think of a way out of the mess she had somehow made worse. Again. When the tugging began, it was obvious that Power was toying with her.

Desperate, she looked around while her slippered feet struggling to find purchase on the pavers. At this rate she would lose in seconds, and she hadn’t even asked Plagg what would happen if she didn’t win. She made eye contact with Mylene, who looked on with eyes full of tears. Inspiration struck.

“Plagg-- Ivan’s still in there right? Would it be possible to make him come to?” Plagg’s tilted and hesitant remark that it was probably possible was all she needed. She didn’t have time for another plan. Digging her feet into the ground to try and give herself a little more time, she made eye contact with her crying classmate again.

“M-- You! Go to him!”

She’d realize later how crazy she sounded. Telling a small crying girl to go towards the thing that was possessing her friend and classmate. But luckily Mylene did as she said. Power paid her no attention until the small blonde girl’s hand rested on Ivan’s. The pink faded from Ivan’s eyes for a moment and he blinked at her, his grip slackening around the vine.

Marinette used that moment to get more purchase on the ground, and take hands full of vine back from the card.

But that minor victory led to the resurgence of Power. Ivan didn’t raise a hand to strike Mylene, but Power spoke again. Though the command was far more gentle than the others had been. “Step aside Mylene.”

Mylene, unable to withstand Power’s immense pressure, crumpled softly to the ground beside the magical pair’s duel. Once again in control, Power wasted no time taking back the handfuls of vine Marinette had claimed while Ivan had been back in control of his own body.

Just as her arms felt fit to break from the strain, she was saved.

She and her entire class gasped in unison when none other than Chloe Bourgeois tackled the vine in Ivan’s hands. Power did not budge, though for one moment Marinette wouldn’t have been surprised to see it. But, the vine, being very much a normal vine, snapped in two. Leaving Marinette holding the longest length of it.

Power snarled, advancing on Chloe with eyes so dark pink they were nearly red. The picture of wounded pride. Chloe scrambled back on hands and knees but power picked her up by the throat like it had done to Kim. But the moment that Power touched Chloe, Ivan fell away like a crumpled second skin.

In his place stood a petite girl dressed all in pink. Marinette noted with a trace of shock that their costumes were very similar. Had she dreamed up this costume too? But there was no time to think. Though the expression Power wore was similar to one of a petulant youth whose pride had been wounded, her strength was anything but childlike. Chloe’s fingers scrambled to find purchase on the small pink girl’s wrist bangles, her face turning blue.

Marinette wasted no time bringing her staff down on Power’s outstretched arms, knocking Chloe from the card’s grip. Now that they were separated, she stood between them, staff raised.

“You lost Power! No more mischief for you! Return to your original form, Miraculous!”

Power fell to her knees, looking teary and defeated as she folded in on herself and back into the card. Marinette tried to catch her breath as time began to move again around her. Unlike the Fly, this card did not soar directly into her hand, but landed behind her, between where she stood and Chloe knelt. She leaned over, picking it up. When she looked up, she inadvertently made eye-contact with her classroom nemesis.

Nothing could have prepared her for the look of longing that hung over the mayor’s daughter’s face. But as quickly as she had seen it, it was gone. Chloe smiled shyly at her, an expression she wasn’t sure anyone in the whole world had ever been graced with before.

“Thank you for saving me Ladybug!”

“Thank you for your help-- but you should be careful, you could have gotten hurt…” She stopped speaking, eyes on the bruising blossoming around Chloe’s throat. Torn between speaking more and being terrified her voice would be recognized by any of the over a dozen of classmates she’d been around for the last _three years of her life,_ Marinette chose not to say anything more to Chloe.

She did offer the girl a hand up though.

Now that the danger had passed, she was acutely aware of Alya filming her from no further than 5 feet away. No longer needing any wide shots, her new friend rushed to her, camera still leveled at her face. Marinette stepped back a few paces, sinking further into her hood. Instead of focusing on the camera, she turned to look for Ivan.

He laid back on the sidewalk, his head in Mylene’s lap, groaning softly. No one around him looked too scared of him, most of their fearful gazes were leveled at her… Or rather, the card in her hand. Good… She probably had Chloe’s uncharacteristic lunge to help her to thank for their lack of malice towards their previously transformed classmate. Even Kim still looked apologetic as he eyed Ivan from a few feet away.

“Ladybug, Miss Ladybug, could I get a few words?” Alya called out to her.

Marinette bounced back further, bringing her staff up in a twirl, using the moment to throw a out a card above her, before bringing the top of her baton down on the Fly card.

“Fly!”

Oohs and ahhs erupted from her classmates, as well as every other evacuated class that had witnessed the chaos. Marinette sat astride her staff, offering Alya’s camera a silent wave before launching herself into the air, speeding off in the opposite direction of her house.

 

She made a wide arc, clinging to the tops of buildings. Every time she thought she was clear, Plagg pointed out another set of pedestrian eyes that spotted her and she had to dart off in another direction so as not to be spotted entering her own home. 

It took an hour, but she finally made it back home without being spotted. But far from joy, landing on the roof of her home did nothing but fill her with dread. She’d missed the last hour of school, there was video of her close up, with dozens of witnesses that would probably recognize her as Marinette immediately when she saw them again, if they hadn’t already done so... And she ached. She ached terribly from being thrown against the wall of her school. 

Groaning, she collapsed on her balcony, slipping off her mask and letting out a sigh of relief when the cool air wafted over her sweaty cheekbones.

Plagg said nothing, just let her lay there for a few minutes while she caught her breath. Though he did rub his oversized head against her cheek in what was an undeniably comforting way.

“Come on, you need to sign the card-- and get me some cheese, I’m STARVING.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but the strange normalcy of the request was also comforting. In it’s own odd way. It was one of the universe’s truths. Marinette would somehow make things worse and Plagg would always want cheese. Her laugh was a breathy, tired noise, but she got up and slid into her bedroom all the same.

Changing into her normal clothes, she began to plan how she could sneak out so that she could ‘come home from school’ at the appropriate time. With a sigh she hoped that sort of plan wouldn’t be necessary very often.

But somehow, she doubted she’d be so lucky.

 


	3. Marinette and the Wild Wood

_“-nsure if Collège Françoise Dupont was targeted directly--_

Pzzt.

_“-anks to amature video footage of the scene--”_

Pzzt.

_“-sterious girl who has so far not been officially identified, going by the name Ladyb--”_

Pzzt.

_“--unusual phenomenon where people are reporting the uncontrollable--”_

Pzzt.

_“-nd now to lighter topics, Jacques!” The woman smiled, obviously passing the focus to her co-anchor while the picture-in-picture of Alya’s footage faded from the corner of the screen that was over the anchor’s left shoulder._

Marinette let out a sigh of relief. Her first week of school had come and gone with no more cards appearing to mess everything up... But with no answers and nothing new to talk about, the new stations were still running the footage from Alya’s site nearly non-stop.

No one had run up to her, pointing an accusing finger while screaming her identity for all of Paris to hear the day after the incident with Power and Ivan. No one had come forward to out her to the world the day after that either. Somehow she’d made it all the way to the weekend with her secret intact.

The nearly endless press coverage had made her nervous and flighty at first, but now it served no purpose other than to remind Marinette just how poorly crafted her costume had been. It was funny, to be distracted by such a benign concern. Almost comforting. Almost _normal._

“Ugh… do we have to watch this, they’re not talking about you anymore, and your reporter friend didn’t get any shots of ME.”

Marinette rolled her eyes at Plagg’s whining vanity.

“You’re the one who said the cards could become active at any moment, I need to listen for any reports!”

“Uuuuuuuugh!”

She paid no more attention to his theatrical moans. He was just bored. It would pass. She opted instead to continue sewing her new outfit while listening for any breaking news of the Miraculous-variety.

No breaking news cut over the innocuous story about how the oldest tree in Paris was succumbing to tree-rot despite the efforts of the best dendrologists that the city could fly in. Marinette was happy to all but tune it out while she put the finishing touches on her new costume.

“Honestly Plagg, I can’t believe you let me leave the house. That was one of my sloppiest designs ever-- I looked ridiculous.”

Now it was the kwami’s turn to roll his eyes.

“It served it’s purpose-- besides, you looked _fiiiiiine_.” He floated lazily up and changed the channel, ignoring Marinette’s protests. “And you don’t need to listen to this-- I told you, just keep trying to sense them. That’s waaaay more reliable.” The seamstress huffed, but shook her head, beyond arguing with him. Instead she busied herself with her dressmaker’s mannequin while he turned on Mecha Strike III.

The way the skirt laid was asymmetrical, longer in the center and shorter leading up to her hips. With folds of tulle underneath to keep the skirt’s bell-like shape and volume, it’d offer mobility while maintaining modesty. This design had long sleeves that tapered off at the elbow until they were half solid fabric and half tulle. The fabric of the skirt was black with a smattering of red spots until it hit her hips, where she had inverted the design to a much more typical ladybug coloring. The look would be finished off with asymmetrically topped red boots, black tights that mirrored the look of the sleeves as and black gloves. ([x](https://68.media.tumblr.com/16ffb1b694dbddb9e7c9e584025834ac/tumblr_inline_ojk7v6cvYX1qg7s08_500.png))

Marinette tried to eye it critically. Like she would be sure to do if it was caught on camera later. It was awfully… spotted. But she was the one who had stuck herself with the very limited color palette and theming options.

Outfit straightened to her satisfaction, she laid down on her chaise and sighed. “Why couldn’t I have called myself something else? Like a butterfly or something. Those come in all colors!”

Plagg found this hilarious, for reasons he failed to explain.

But before she had the chance to question him about it further, her mother’s voice floated up from the floor beneath her. Plagg dove into Marinette’s chaise cushions, but it was ultimately an unnecessary precaution. Her mother hadn't climbed the stairs, just called for her from the bottom of them.

“Marinette, honey, you have a guest!”

“Coming!”

Puzzled, Marinette draped a covering over her newest costume. It wouldn’t do for whoever it was to come up and see them. She could say she had recreated the mystery girl’s hood and cloak because she wanted to, but explaining the dress would be a bit more… impossible.

Maybe it was Juleka and Rose? The pair had come over a few times before. But she shook her head, her mother had said guest, singular, and they were practically inseparable. Perhaps it was Nino? But before she could make her way downstairs to greet whoever it was, a knock sounded at her door.

“You’re mom told me just to come up, can I come in?” When Alya’s voice floated up from it Marinette tried not to have a full blown heart attack.

“J-just a moment!” Marinette darted to the cloak and hood underneath the chaise, stuffing them inside her wardrobe. She wouldn’t put seeing them past her keen eyed friend. The pig-tailed teen debated with herself on what she could do with her mannequin… what if Alya looked under the cloth? Though she was sure if she told her not to her friend would respect her privacy. But would it be suspicious?

She moved it into the corner of her room and set up her silk dressing screen in front of it… Hopefully Alya wouldn’t notice it, and if she did, the fabric covering it would prevent her from seeing it until Marinette could run interfererence.

Marinette frowned and looked around her room for anything suspicious. Everything was clear. That done, she shooed Plagg into the upper loft where her bed was. It had taken more than a minute to arrange everything and Marinette felt her face flush with embarrassment when she finally called out to her friend.

“C-come in!”

Alya quirked a brow at her when she finally swung the trap door open. Marinette schooled her features into something she hoped looked natural.

“Sorry, just wanted to pick up-- it was a little bit messy.”

“Don’t worry about it girl! I wouldn’t judge.” Alya laughed.

Marinette couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty for all the lying. She gestured for her friend to sit on the chaise while she wheeled over her desk chair. Alya hoisted her messenger bag into her lap as she complied.

“Anyways, I came to drop off those comics-- I found them last night when I was unpacking. Figured this weekend would be good, before homework gets piled on next week.” She fished out a fistfull of small bound books-- comic books, with the familiar red and blue-costumed heroine Majestia on the cover. “This is just volumes one through six, that’s really all you need to give it before you’re hooked-- or, well, for you to realize you won’t be interested.”

The pair then settled into a comfortable discussion about everything and nothing at all. Alya’s move, her previous school, and other things that they hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about during the week at school. Marinette felt the knot of worry loosen in her stomach. It was hard not to like the fiery amatuer reporter, and despite the fact lying to her weighed heavily on her shoulders, she really didn’t have a reason not to.

A ping from Alya’s phone interrupted one of her stories about her little sisters’ tales of trouble making. Her friend’s face lit up with excitement when she unlocked her screen and Marinette was taken-aback by the sudden flailing that followed.

“I hit over fifty thousand user accounts!!” The Ladyblog… She had been keeping Marinette up to date on the site all week, but more of their conversations had been about theories and feedback then they had been about pure numbers.

Marinette paled, her mouth dropping open with shock. The news stations were one thing… She’d only have to worry about a few adults around her school or her parent’s recognizing her from the footage, but Alya’s blog meant so many more people her age would have seen… Belatedly she realized Alya was waiting for a reaction.

“Whoa!”

It was weak, but Alya seemed to accept it.

“I know right? The video has waaaaay more views on youtube-- but to have that many people signing up on the blog for future updates--!” She squealed, hugging her phone tightly to her chest. The change in focus was physically visible. She tapped her lower lip with the top of her phone, eyes squinted and calculating behind her glasses. “I think I can afford another server-- I don’t want the site to crash if the viewership spikes. I’ll have to put up ads... But it’ll be worth it for the stability.”

Curious, Marinette spun her computer chair around, reopening her web browser and opening a new tab. Filled with trepidation, she clicked the video source link from the Ladyblog and nudged the scroll wheel down enough to see the view counter.

Her mouth flapped wordlessly.

It had more than three million views.

Alya draped herself over Marinette’s shoulders, and the aspiring-designer tried not to jump out of her seat.

“Impressive, right?! Just look at this though--” Numbly, she watched as Alya hit refresh on the page and the view counter number jumped by a over a thousand. “The hits are amazing, but it’s been a week and they haven’t stopped, every time I think it’s about to stall out another news station contacts me to feature it and the numbers keep climbing!”

Marinette rested her forehead on her desk, feeling faint.

There was a moment of quiet before she felt Alya’s hand on her back.

“Hey... you okay?”

She turned to face her concerned friend, she opened her mouth, about to confess everything… before she caught sight of Plagg shaking his head from her lofted bed. She prevented herself from vocalizing her frustration, but only just.

Instead she drooped, shoulders hunching as she wrapped her arms around herself. She needed to come up with something Alya would believe. But… no excuse sprang forward. Marinette closed her eyes and spoke truthfully instead.

“It’s just... Something took over that man with the bird-- and something took over Ivan… and no one knows what’s going on-- and what if Ladybug isn’t good enough Alya? What if she fails-- and someone gets hurt? Like-- you saw the bruises on Chloe’s neck. That could have been so much worse...”

Alya looked thoughtful, a comforting hand still on Marinette’s shoulder.

“I think I understand.”

Her panic surfaced again. Had she been too transparent? Had Alya already suspected? Had she given everything away? But that fear was alleviated immediately by Alya’s expression, it was kind and reassuring. Knowing, but not the right kind of _knowing._

“You’re scared! But don’t worry, I was next to Ladybug, I saw her with my own eyes. Things got a little messy with ‘Power’, but if you had seen her in person with the bird-- she’s the real deal. She’ll protect us.”

Marinette tried not to let the self-doubt that threatened to overwhelm her show on her face but living up to Alya’s standards felt all but impossible. She forced a smile to her face when Alya playfully shoved her to lighten the mood.

“Though I would have assumed that Chloe got what she deserved.”

Marinette’s smile faltered again, though this time it was replaced by a thoughtful expression rather than a fearful one. “She… she wouldn’t have gotten hurt if she hadn’t been trying to help Ladybug. So… Besides, no one deserves to get seriously hurt Alya.”

Alya’s eyes sparkled mischievously behind her glasses. “Oh? That’s not the impression I got from you when you were telling me all those horrible stories about her from the past three years.”

Marinette flapped a hand at her friend, face a little red. “You know I didn’t mean it… But it is weird, isn’t it? How she’s been acting this week--” She shook her head, cutting off Alya before the redhead could even open her mouth. “Sorry, silly question, you just met her _this_ week after all.”

Alya nodded, resuming her seat on the chaise. “True, though, from what you and everyone else has said about her, I’d agree she’s certainly been behaving oddly.”

“Well-- except for how she treated Ivan afterwards.” Marinette rubbed her forehead with a balled fist. “Poor Ivan-- at least everyone else thawed out a bit about the whole thing once Chloe started being a pain.”

The pair of teens grimaced at each other recalling the dramatic way Chloe had gone about using the bruising around her neck as an excuse to eat pineapple, papaya and chocolate all through class all week. Even though the bruising had begun to subside on Thursday, and had been completely covered by makeup on Friday.

Though with how raspy the normally screechy girl’s voice had been… especially with all the coughing, no one in the class shot her the customary dirty looks for her haughty behavior. There was something unsettling about something so horrible happening to someone you disliked. Like everyone was collectively, silently, trying to make up for the fact that they’d probably wished her ill on multiple occasions, even if it had been deserved at the time.

“Anyways, as far as no one knowing what’s going on, I wouldn’t say that! I’ve been researching after all, and I think--.” Another beep sounded on Alya’s phone and Marinette frowned, distressed that her friend’s line of thought had been interrupted.

“Another milestone?”

Alya grinned, but the expression fell off her face the moment she read whatever had flashed across her phone’s locked screen. Almost immediately the sound of a news reporter filled Marinette’s room.

_“--ken the tree cutters hostage in Square Rene Viviani. Earlier this week it was declared that the health of The Oldest Tree in Paris was irreparably affected by a foreign strain of fungal tree rot. Officials announced yesterday that the tree would be cut down and removed for the health of the other plants in the Square and public safety._

_Officials have not announced the woman’s identity or revealed her demands, though eyewitnesses say that the young woman was distraught at the impending removal of the tree. We bring you to Nadja Chamack, currently at the scene._

The video cut to Manon’s mother, looking suitably solemn but full of energy as she directed the camera man’s focus past her and into the park. They were standing as close as they could get, but there was a police barricade around the whole front entrance to the park.

_“Eyewitnesses report that the university student was among the protesters who had chained themselves to the tree, and that once the workmen had cut the chains with bolt cutters she wrapped up all of the people in the park with previously unseen vines.”_

Alya was already plugging a portable charger into her phone with one hand while fumbling with the latch of her bag with the other.

“That’s just across the Seine! What luck! Told you Marinette-- there had to be more than two! Oh man I hope I’m not too late! I’ll see you tomorrow girl!” She was down the stairs and out of the house before Marinette could even think of how to go about chiding the reporter about running to the scene of a in-progress magical disaster. But she didn’t have time to go chasing after her new friend.

Quickly, Marinette yanked on her newest costume, pulling the hooded cloak and mask out from her wardrobe and donning them as well. She summoned her staff and was about to invoke the Fly card when she had a thought. Tucking her extended staff under one arm she sent her parents a text saying she’d gone to a friend’s house. That done, she turned off her phone and threw it on her bed before scrambling out on her roof.

All eyes of the people on the road were drawn towards the not-so-distant sounds of sirens. A stroke of luck she couldn’t count on in the future, she was sure, but she took full advantage of it now. After invoking Fly, she leapt from her roof, shooting quickly across the roofs so that even those who’d see her would think she’d been traveling at top speeds from a distance away.

Plagg huddled inside her hood, apparently none-too-pleased by the jostling, if his tone was any indication. “You’re too paranoid. People have a habit of… overlooking what they don’t understand.”

“You tell that to someone who doesn’t have a three million hit video of them circulating all over the internet. _I_ don’t buy that. Besides, you’re the one who told me I couldn’t tell anyone.”

The black cat kwami flicked her ear. “Well, you could, but it’s really not good to. Magicians the world over have coveted the Miraculous Cards for decades. The more people who know, the easier it would be for them to find you, it’s really not… ideal.”

Marinette tried not to let the idea of a fully grown adult attacking her (armed with more magic than she could possibly understand), distract her from her rapidly approaching destination. “I remember Plagg. Believe me. More importantly, tell me what in the world I’m about to get myself into.”

“Well… It’s complicated.”

Marinette brought her staff to a halt before grabbing Plagg in one hand, pulling him out from the depths of her hood to glare at him. She wasn’t sure how effective it’d be with the mask on, but he seemed at least a little contrite.

“It’s not my fault! There’s a few cards it could be! I’ll be able to tell when I get there!”

Marinette waved her free hand to the park below them. “Well, we’re here now. Let’s just hurry before someone gets hurt.” She released the kwami with a groan, diving into the garden with her keen eyes peeled for the woman who had been possessed.

There were over a dozen people wrapped in branches, crying or yelling as they struggled to be free of their living prisons. A few people moved as if they’d call out to her, but she quieted them with a finger to her lips. She had the element of surprise, if she kept this up, maybe she could seal the card before it even realized she was here. Some of the hostages nodded and stopped yelling, some of them continued to cry quietly, but none of them yelled out for her.

The park had been transformed from a well manicured garden into a wild wood. Flowers and trees were a riot of color and movement, constantly waving back and forth as though they were limbs rather than plants.

It was disconcerting... to say the least.

She flew over to one of the more calmer prisoners.

“Where did you last see her?”

“Please, before you go--” The woman tried to point and the branches around her hugged her tighter. Marinette’s hands flew to them, but Plagg hissed at her before she could touch them.

“She’ll know-- if you touch one of them! Don’t worry--, this has got to be Wood, she’s a gentle card, not violent! She won’t seriously hurt any of these people.”

The captive woman stared at Plagg, eyes wide and mouth open but when she stopped moving the branches loosened slightly. Marinette sighed a breath of relief.

“L-Ladybug,”

Marinette jolted, eyes snapping back up to her. It was strange to hear her superhero name spoken by someone she didn’t know. But she leaned forward, listening to the older girl carefully.

“Tallis, she’s a good girl, she’s a good friend-- she’s just-- this tree, it just-- she loves this tree!” At Ladybug’s raised brow the captive girl’s eyes started to fill with tears. “Her mother passed away just a few months ago-- they came to this park a lot when she was younger. This tree means so much to her-- please, she’s not a bad guy-- she’s not evil-- **_please_ ** don’t hurt her Ladybug!”

Marinette leaned backwards, looking around and desperately wishing she could pat the older girl’s shoulder. Instead she awkwardly coughed, trying to find the proper words to reassure the girl.

“Don’t worry-- your friend, she’s not in control of herself right now, I know that. I’ll help her-- and all of you. But please, you must tell me where you saw her last.”

About to speak, whatever she was about to say was cut off by a loud, indignant cry of “Stop stepping on those!” All of the branches that held the captives tensed slightly, though no one cried out in pain. Marinette quickly ducked behind one of the captive-trees, eyes scanning the park for signs of Tallis and whoever she was yelling at.

Marinette wasn’t a crude sort of person, but the curse that left her mouth when she spotted what she was looking for made Plagg whistle softly in her ear.

A woman stood in the corner of the park. Her body was wrapped loosely in branches and she had a mantle of leaves around her shoulders. The branches that wrapped around her torso dropped to the ground, trailing off until they were lost in the patchwork of roots and branches that had taken over the floor of the entire park.

But that was not what had drawn out the curse.

No.

That was because Tallis was currently wrapping up the source of her ire in branches.

Alya still had her phone out recording, even while the branches lifted her up off of the delicate shrubs she had been crushing. How had she even gotten around the police barricade? Marinette groaned softly into her gloved hand. This girl would be the death of her.

Without thinking, Marinette leaned down over her staff, shooting out in between the pair to hover protectively in front of Alya. “Wood, you need to stop!”

The possessed girl recoiled, surprise and more than a bit of fear apparent in her eyes. But it only took a moment for her to steel herself, striking a defiant pose as branches grew to try and capture Marinette. Still flying, she circled Wood-Tallis, never staying in one place long enough for the branches to grow up from the ground and snag her ankles.

“I’m not going to hurt you!”

There was no difference, the girl continued to chase Marinette with the branches.

A little frustrated, Marinette tried again.

“I’m not going to hurt the tree either-- I swear.”

The branches slowed, but they didn’t entirely stop.

The difference was enough though. It allowed Marinette to focus on her words rather than constantly dodging.

“I know what that tree means to Tallis, Wood, her friend told me. But you’re going to hurt people this way, whether you mean to or not, and you can’t stay like this forever. You’re only putting the whole park at risk and delaying the inevitable. This won’t help her Wood.”

Tears sprung up in the young woman’s eyes, and Marinette was astounded to see the leaves from the mantle around Tallis’s shoulders moving to wipe them away.

Was Wood… trying to comfort the girl? Instead of the unsettling moving dress or living cage, Marinette realized that the branches were more like comforting arms, engulfing the crying woman in a compassionate embrace.

She tried again, speaking to the girl beneath the surface.

“Your friends are worried about you Tallis, this will hurt, but they’ll be there to help you, I promise.” Her voice was even more gentle now. Despite that she had been _trying_ to be comforting, more tears started to roll down Tallis’s face, causing Marinette to panic. But the branches had stopped trying to catch her at all now. So that must mean this was a good sign, surely?

Marinette landed cautiously, waiting a moment for the vegetation to remain motionless under her feet before she released the fly card from her staff. She stepped forward, a little relieved when the mess of branches parted for her so she could stand on solid ground.

Tallis-Wood remained still, though the tears continued to flow freely down her face. The leaves had given up wiping them away, instead opting to just gently caress the girl’s cheek. Marinette put a reassuring hand on the girl’s arm and was wholly surprised when Tallis fell away, leaving only Wood before her. It was just like how Power had been removed from Ivan before...

The Wood card took the form of a miniature woman, with a beautiful elfin face and a long flowing light green dress and long dark green hair that looked more like a bough of leaves than actual hair. Like Tallis, Wood had a mantle of leaves that fell over her shoulders and down the front of her dress like a shawl.

Carefully, she turned her cupped hand upward, allowing Wood to perch delicately in her palm. Tallis looked up from the ground where she had collapsed, eyes still full of tears as the branches slowly began to unwind themselves from around her and shrink.

Marinette raised her staff, touching the end of it to the hem of Wood’s long dress. Her voice was much more gentle than it had been for both the Fly and Power cards.

“It’s time to go... Return to your original form, Miraculous.”

Wood closed her eyes as she floated up from her seat, shrinking until her Miraculous Card floated for a moment, before gliding back down into Marinette’s same outstretched hand.

“Well done, Ladybug.” Plagg’s voice in her ear almost made her jolt, but she composed herself.

“If only Power had been this easy… then maybe no one would have gotten hurt.”

All around them the branches and leaves were shrinking in on themselves, bringing the park back to the state it had been before Wood had possessed Tallis. All of the captives were deposited gently to the ground around the central fountain.

“S-so I didn’t hurt anyone?”

The voice came from the ground in front of her, from Tallis.

Ladybug crouched down, placing a gloved hand on the older girl’s shoulder. Though she wasn’t sure what to say. She was thankful that Plagg was never at a loss for words, for once.

“No, you didn’t hurt anyone girl, they’re all just rattled, but not hurt.” Plagg landed on Tallis’s shoulder, and she almost went cross eyed in order to look at him perched there. Marinette stifled a giggle.

“Wood is a gentle being, but she would have harmed if that had been your intention. But thankfully, you are also a gentle being.”

It was hard to reconcile this Plagg with the one who had been eating her out of house and cheese for the past week, but Marinette was grateful that he was being so kind to the distraught girl. She made a note to make sure she’d buy him some camembert on her way home from school tomorrow.

Tallis reached up, her hand faltering before it actually reached the black cat kwami, but Plagg closed the distance, nuzzling his head into her outstretched palm. Her shoulders relaxed a small bit, but her voice was still tremulous when she spoke. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone, this-- this tree just means so much to me.”

Plagg floated up from her shoulder, landing instead on Tallis’s fluffy coils, facing Marinette and not addressing the girl he was perching on.“You should sign your name on the card now Ladybug.”

“Plagg, it's not polite to sit in someone’s hair!”, Marinette gave him a half hearted glare before she reached into her skirt’s pocket, producing a pen and about to do as he said. He was about to say more when the trio were interrupted by a familiar voice crying out, “Ladybug!”

Alya had positioned herself and her camera a little distance away, just enough so that she could take in all of Ladybug’s outfit before closing in on a tighter angle of just a headshot. “Ladybug, my name is Alya and I’m with the Ladyblog, could you spare a moment to answer a few questions!”

Marinette backed up, lips tightly shut, prepared to cry out for Fly when Plagg flew from his impolite perch on Tallis’s head and directly into the camera. He positioned himself so as to be taking up all of the shot with his own body. She relaxed.

“You didn’t get any shots of ME last time reporter girl, and frankly I’m OFFENDED.”

Marinette helped the still-teary university student to her feet while Plagg ran interference with Alya, letting go and stepping back when Tallis’s friend sprinted across the park, catching her dazed friend in an all-encompassing hug.

Stuck between Plagg’s self-absorbed interview and the teary hug between Tallis and her friend, Marinette quietly signed the bottom of the Wood card. The card felt alive in her hand, warmer than any of the other three had felt. It was oddly pleasant. But there was more than that… It felt awake and eager, as though it was hoping for something to happen.

When she looked up, she saw Tallis wrapping her arms around the tree that had started the whole mess. Well-- it wasn’t the trees fault it had gotten sick per se. Marinette’s blue eyes trailed the warm brown of Tallis’s bare shoulders and arms, she was nearly the same shade as the trunk of the tree she loved so much. The desperation that had drawn Wood to her was still there though, in Tallis’s fingers knotted and tense as they clutched at the tree’s bark.

The card grew warmer in her palm and Marinette knew what she could do.

“Wood!”

With the exception of Alya and Plagg, Tallis and her friend, and those who were staring warily at Tallis, all eyes had already on Ladybug before she cried out the name of her new card. Though the exceptions quickly turned their gazes to her at her cry. Wood began to pour out from the card gracefully, floating before the cowled girl. Her small elfin face was smiling and approving.

“Restore this tree’s health-- and protect it and all others in this park from suffering again!”

Tallis’s eyes were as wide as saucers as the eager Wood card floated quickly to the Oldest Tree in Paris. She stepped back slowly as the tree began to glow faintly green, growing brighter and brighter until it was a nearly blinding white. The other trees in the park began to glow a faint green as well, though not nearly as dazzling.

The creaking and moaning of the earth was slightly unsettling for a moment, before it became clear that it was the supports under the tree falling away as the Old Tree righted itself, standing proud and only slightly bent, better able to support its own weight again. The bark brightened slightly, losing the gray undertone it had seemed to have before.

Leaves sprouted in patches across all of it’s branches until it was a full and stately crown. The light began to fade from the trees, drifting away from the trunks in bubbles of green-white light that shrunk until they disappeared. When everyone could look properly at the Old Tree’s branches again, they saw that white colored flower buds were among almost every cluster of leaves.

Plagg floated near her ear, speaking softly. “Wood has out done herself.” Marinette smiled, holding her hand out for Wood to drift back into gently again, but her eyes remained on the crumpled and tearfully happy Tallis, hugging the base of the now healthy tree.

“Miss Ladybug, Ladybug!” Alya waved, and Marinette quickly backed up, calling on the Fly card again, preparing to flee. But Alya grabbed her hand, gentle but firm. “Please-- just a few questions!” Before Marinette could shake her head to decline, Alya asked a question that set the hairs on the back of her neck to standing.

“Do those who are taken over by the cards have free will, are they responsible for any destruction that happens while they are empowered?”

“Absolutely not!” Marinette winced at her fervor, but she had already spoken, and it was important that no one thought that these people were assaulting others of their own volition. She cleared her throat, making an effort to sound older and more informed than she actually felt. “The cards are very powerful, but they are like children, they don’t --- you see they--- They seek out people with strong emotions that they empathize with-- they can’t manifest without powerful emotions to use as fuel. The cards are in control-- not the people.”

Internalizing a grimace, Marinette broke away from Alya’s hand, determined not to embarrass herself any further than she already had. Plagg looked like a cat who’d eaten a canary over Alya’s shoulder, so she was sure it had been exactly as embarrassing as it felt.

Alya looked panicked, though her voice remained professional. “One more question, Ladybug?”

Marinette paused, nervously plucking at her hood to make sure it was still firmly in place. She turned to eye her friend pensively. Despite the professional demeanor, she could tell that her friend was desperately hoping for just a _bit more_ information.

Ladybug mounted her staff, drawing her shoulders up to try and give Alya a good shot for her newest clip. “Just one more, reporter.”

Alya grinned wide again. Though she did take the moment to seriously consider a few possibilities before she asked her one allotted question. “What is your goal, Ladybug?”

It wasn’t a difficult question, in fact, she was sure that it was the easiest question Alya could have asked her at that moment. Ladybug smiled warmly at her friend.

“To protect Paris.”

Alya smiled back and opened her mouth to ask another question but Ladybug launched herself into the sky, zipping off in the opposite direction of her house.

 

 

“I-- cannot-- believe--- you-- left-- me!!” Plagg’s voice was haughty but thoroughly out of breath. It was almost inaudible beneath Marinette’s laughter as she leaned forward, supporting herself on her winged staff.

“I’m sorry-- I just was trying to make a cool exit! Alya was preparing to wheedle another question out of me, limit or no limit.” The young cardcaptor put out her hand for the small black cat kwami to rest on as he regained his bearings.

They flew in silence for a few minutes, Plagg breathing and huffing, Marinette’s eyes on the almost-too-distant Parisian ground beneath her.

“I really need to start bringing normal clothes with me, so I can land somewhere farther away and walk back normally.” It was her worry from just before dealing with Wood, but somehow, with the cards feeling warm in her pocket and the rush of healing the entire park behind her, she found it hard to feel as nervous about it as she had earlier.

Plagg grumbled something to the effect of her being ‘too wary’ again but his heart didn’t seem to be in it. Or he was still too out of breath to properly complain.

The silence stretched on for a only a few moments more before Marinette broke it again.

“I… I can really do good, can’t I Plagg? I can make a difference? With the cards.”

Plagg smiled and nodded, moving from her outstretched palm to the inside of her hood, curling up underneath her ear against her neck.

“You can kid, you really can.”

 

\--

 

 _“In the 7th arrondissement there is an unusual phenomenon where Parisians are reporting the uncontrollable urge to tell the_ **_truth_** _. No one has been seriously injured, though it has been reported that there has been a rash of couples breaking up due to the situation. A handful of people have also seemingly been fired or quit their jobs as well. There is no word on what is causing the phenomenon, but many are looking to the videos of the young caped woman who is calling herself ‘Ladybug’ and the alleged magic she wields as a possible explanation. We will keep you up to date on the story as it unfolds, but as of right now, local law enforcement has no leads, and really no jurisdiction over nonviolent couples disputes.”_

Now that the news had nothing new to say about the card’s activity, a gloved hand reached forward to turn off the television.

The 7th arrondissement was plenty enough information to go on after all.

The card would be easy to sense within a few blocks.

**Author's Note:**

> Side note: I deleted the Alya/Nino tag since they'll be secondary to the story/plot. Their romance will eventually happen and they as characters will totally be involved in the story, but I've experienced first hand what its like trying to find an Alya/Nino centric-fic and finding nothing but dregs in love-square fics.


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